ied it to the German, inviting him by signs to take a seat in the
other carryall. The German consented to sit by the Turk, as they neither
of them could understand the other; and at last they started, Mr.
Peterkin with the Italian by his side, and the French and Russian
teachers behind, vociferating to each other in languages unknown to
Mr. Peterkin, while he feared they were not perfectly in harmony, so
he drove home as fast as possible. Agamemnon had a silent party. The
Spaniard by his side was a little moody, while the Turk and the German
behind did not utter a word.

At last they reached the house, and were greeted by Mrs. Peterkin
and Elizabeth Eliza, Mrs. Peterkin with her llama lace shawl over her
shoulders, as a tribute to the Spanish teacher. Mr. Peterkin was careful
to take his party in first, and deposit them in a distant part of the
library, far from the Turk or the German, even putting the Frenchman and
Russian apart.

Solomon John found the Italian dictionary, and seated himself by his
Italian; Agamemnon, with the German dictionary, by the German. The
little boys took their copy of the "Arabian Nights" to the Turk. Mr.
Peterkin attempted to explain to the Russian that he had no Russian
dictionary, as he had hoped to learn Sanscrit of him, while Mrs.
Peterkin was trying to inform her teacher that she had no books in
Spanish. She got over all fears of the Inquisition, he looked so sad,
and she tried to talk a little, using English words, but very slowly,
and altering the accent as far as she knew how. The Spaniard bowed,
looked gravely interested, and was very polite.

Elizabeth Eliza, meanwhile, was trying her grammar phrases with the
Parisian.

She found it easier to talk French than to understand him. But
he understood perfectly her sentences. She repeated one of her
vocabularies, and went on with--"J'ai le livre." "As-tu le pain?"
"L'enfant a une poire." He listened with great attention, and replied
slowly. Suddenly she started after making out one of his sentences, and
went to her mother to whisper, "They have made the mistake you feared.
They think they are invited to lunch! He has just been thanking me for
our politeness in inviting them to dejeuner,--that means breakfast!"

"They have not had their breakfast!" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, looking at
her Spaniard; "he does look hungry! What shall we do?"

Elizabeth Eliza was consulting her father. What should they do? How
should they make them unde