this neighbourhood. I have a pretty
cottage yonder at the outskirts of the village, and near the park pales.
I recognized you at once; and as I heard you just now, I called to mind
that when we met before, you said your calling should be the Church,
were it not for your difficulty in utterance; and I said to myself, 'No
bad thing those pebbles, if his utterance were thick, which is it not;'
and I have not a doubt, sir, that the true fault of Demosthenes, whom I
presume you are imitating, was that he spoke through his nose."

"Eh!" said the scholar, "through his nose? I never knew that?--and I--"

"And you are trying to speak without lungs; that is without air in them.
You don't smoke, I presume?"

"No; certainly not."

"You must learn; speak between each slow puff of your pipe. All you want
is time,--time to quiet the nerves, time to think, time to breathe. The
moment you begin to stammer, stop, fill the lungs thus, then try again!
It is only a clever man who can learn to write,--that is, to compose;
but any fool can be taught to speak. Courage!"

"If you really can teach me," cried the learned man, forgetting all
self-reproach for his betrayal of Waife to Mrs. Crane in the absorbing
interest of the hope that sprang up within him, "if you can teach me; if
I can but con-con-con--conq--"

"Slowly, slowly, breath and time; take a whiff from my pipe; that's
right. Yes, you can conquer the impediment."

"Then I will be the best friend to you that man ever had. There's my
hand on it."

"I take it, but I ask leave to change the parties in the contract.
I don't want a friend: I don't deserve one. You'll be a friend to my
little girl instead; and if ever I ask you to help me in aught for her
welfare and happiness--"

"I will help, heart and soul! slight indeed any service to her or to
you compared with such service to me. Free this wretched tongue from its
stammer, and thought and zeal will not stammer whenever you say, 'Keep
your promise.' I am so glad your little girl is still with you."

Waife looked surprised, "Is still with me!--why not?" The scholar bit
his tongue. That was not the moment to confess; it might destroy all
Waife's confidence in him. He would do so later. "When shall I begin my
lesson?"

"Now, if you like. But have you a book in your pocket?"

"I always have."

"Not Greek, I hope, sir?"

"No, a volume of Barrow's Sermons. Lord Chatham recommended those
sermons to his great son as a study fo