tephen taught her mathematics; and later, when two fine teachers came
to Oxford, she studied Latin, philosophy and chemistry with them,
besides literature, history and languages--finding herself far ahead
of the other scholars of her age, although she had been buried in a
sick-room for two years.

As long as she was busy she was contented, but when vacation came she
was again miserable. Her active mind and body demanded constant work;
when she did not have it she was simply wretched, and made those
around her so.

One day, when she was in her brother's mill watching the busy weavers,
she had a sudden desire to work a loom herself. When she mentioned
this at home her mother was horrified, but Stephen, who understood her
restless nature better, took Clara's side and a few days later she
proudly took her place before her loom and with enthusiastic
persistence mastered the mysteries of the flying shuttle. How long she
would have kept on with the work cannot be guessed, for on the
fifteenth day after she began work the mill burned down, and she was
again on the look-out for new employment for her active brain and
body.

That she was a real girl was shown when, having discovered that she
had no summer hat, she decided she must have one. Walking through the
rye-fields, she had an idea. With quick interest in a new
accomplishment, she cut a number of green rye stalks, carried them
into the house and scalded them, then laid them out in the sun to
bleach, and when they were white, she cut them into even lengths,
pulled them apart with her teeth, braided them in eleven strands and
made the first straw bonnet she ever owned.

Somehow or other the months of vacation wore away; then the question
was, what to do next? Her nature demanded constant action. She was far
ahead of others of her own age in the matter of studies, and Mrs.
Barton was in real bewilderment as to what to do with her youngest
child. A phrenologist, who was a keen observer of child nature, was
visiting the Bartons at that time, and Clara, who had the mumps and
was lying on the lounge in the adjoining room, heard her mother tell
their guest of her daughter's restlessness and self-consciousness and
ask his advice. Listening eagerly, she heard his reply:

"The sensitive nature will always remain," he said. "She will never
assert herself for herself; she will suffer wrong first. But for
others she will be perfectly fearless. Throw responsibility upon her.
Give h