And what came of it

“Uncle, could you lend me a ninepence? I’ll return it as soon as I get my pocket-money,” said Rose, coming into the library in a great hurry that evening.

“I think I could, and I won’t charge any interest for it, so you need not be in any hurry to repay me. Come back here and help me settle these books if you have nothing pleasanter to do,” answered Dr. Alec, handing out the money with that readiness which is so delightful when we ask small loans.

“I’ll come in a minute; I’ve been longing to fix my books, but didn’t dare to touch them, because you always shake your head when I read.”

“I shall shake my head when you write, if you don’t do it better than you did in making out this catalogue.”

“I know it’s bad, but I was in a hurry when I did it, and I am in one now.” And away went Rose, glad to escape a lecture.

But she got it when she came back, for Uncle Alec was still knitting his brows over the list of books, and sternly demanded, pointing to a tipsy-looking title staggering down the page—

“Is that meant for ‘Pulverized Bones,’ ma’am?”

“No, sir; it’s ‘Paradise Lost.’ ”

“Well, I’m glad to know it, for I began to think you were planning to study surgery or farming. And what is this, if you please? ‘Babies’ Aprons’ is all I can make of it.”

Rose looked hard at the scrawl, and presently announced, with an air of superior wisdom—

“Oh, that’s ‘Bacon’s Essays.’ ”

“Miss Power did not teach anything so old-fashioned as writing, I see. Now look at this memorandum Aunt Plenty gave me, and see what a handsome plain hand that is. She went to a dame-school and learnt a few useful things well; that is better than a smattering of half a dozen so-called higher branches, I take the liberty of thinking.”

“Well, I’m sure I was considered a bright girl at school, and learned everything I was taught. Luly and me were the first in all our classes, and ‘specially praised for our French and music and those sort of things,” said Rose, rather offended at Uncle Alec’s criticism.

“I dare say; but if your French grammar was no better than your English, I think the praise was not deserved, my dear.”

“Why, uncle, we did study English grammar, and I could parse beautifully. Miss Power used to have us up to show off when people came. I don’t see but I talk as right as most girls.”

“I dare say you do, but we are all too careless about our English. Now, think a minute, and tell me if these expressions are correct—‘Luly and me,’ ‘those sort of things,’ and ‘as right as most girls.’ ”

Rose pulled her pet curl and put up her lip, but had to own that she was wrong, and said meekly, after a pause which threatened to be sulky—

“I suppose I should have said ‘Luly and I,’ in that case, and ‘that sort of things’ and ‘rightly,’ though ‘correctly’ would have been a better word, I guess.”

“Thank you; and if you will kindly drop ‘I guess,’ I shall like my little Yankee all the better. Now, see here, Rosy, I don’t pretend to set myself up for a model in anything, and you may come down on my grammar, manners or morals as often as you think I’m wrong, and I’ll thank you. I’ve been knocking about the