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Tom And Maggie Tulliver
by
The schoolmaster had made up his mind to bring Tom on very quickly during the first half-year; but Tom did not greatly enjoy the process, though he made good progress in a very short time.
The boy was, however, very lonely, and longed for playfellows. In his secret heart he yearned to have Maggie with him; though, when he was at home, he always made it out to be a great favour on his part to let Maggie trot by his side on his pleasure excursions.
And before this dreary half-year was ended Maggie actually came. Mrs. Stelling had given a general invitation for the little girl to come and stay with her brother; so when Mr. Tulliver drove over to King’s Lorton late in October, Maggie came too. It was Mr. Tulliver’s first visit to see Tom, for the lad must learn, he had said, not to think too much about home.
“Well, my lad,” the miller said to Tom, when Mr. Stelling had left the room, and Maggie had begun to kiss Tom freely, “you look rarely. School agrees with you.”
Tom wished he had looked rather ill.
“I don’t think I am well, father,” said Tom; “I wish you’d ask Mr. Stelling not to let me do Euclid; it brings on the tooth-ache, I think.”
“Euclid, my lad. Why, what’s that?” said Mr. Tulliver.
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s definitions, and axioms, and triangles, and things. It’s a book I’ve got to learn in; there’s no sense in it.”
“Go, go!” said Mr. Tulliver; “you mustn’t say so. You must learn what your master tells you. He knows what it’s right for you to learn.”
“I’ll help you now, Tom,” said Maggie. “I’m come to stay ever so long, if Mrs. Stelling asks me. I’ve brought my box and my pinafores–haven’t I, father?”
” You help me, you silly little thing!” said Tom. “I should like to see you doing one of my lessons! Why, I learn Latin too! Girls never learn such things; they’re too silly.”
“I know what Latin is very well,” said Maggie confidently. “Latin’s a language. There are Latin words in the dictionary. There’s bonus, a gift.”
“Now you’re just wrong there, Miss Maggie!” said Tom. “You think you’re very wise. But bonus means ‘good,’ as it happens– bonus, bona, bonum.”
“Well, that’s no reason why it shouldn’t mean ‘gift,'” said Maggie stoutly. “It may mean several things–almost every word does. There’s ‘lawn’–it means the grass-plot, as well as the stuff handkerchiefs are made of.”
“Well done, little un,” said Mr. Tulliver, laughing, while Tom felt rather disgusted.
Mrs. Stelling did not mention a longer time than a week for Maggie’s stay, but Mr. Stelling said that she must stay a fortnight.
“Now, then, come with me into the study, Maggie,” said Tom, as their father drove away. “What do you shake and toss your head now for, you silly? It makes you look as if you were crazy.”
“Oh, I can’t help it,” said Maggie. “Don’t tease me, Tom. Oh, what books!” she exclaimed, as she saw the bookcases in the study. “How I should like to have as many books as that!”
“Why, you couldn’t read one of ’em,” said Tom triumphantly. “They’re all Latin.”
“No, they aren’t,” said Maggie. “I can read the back of this– History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”
“Well, what does that mean? You don’t know,” said Tom, wagging his head.
“But I could soon find out,” said Maggie.
“Why, how?”
“I should look inside, and see what it was about.”
“You’d better not, Miss Maggie,” said Tom, seeing her hand on the volume. “Mr. Stelling lets nobody touch his books without leave, and I shall catch it if you take it out.”