Though you compliment Master Gunnel on the proficiency of his pupils you know, and he knows, that the credit is all due to their father. Even in his busiest years it has been his chief occupation. If you had time to go over the letters which Margaret treasures so dearly, and which you may see (tied up like a lover’s in blue ribbon) in a safe corner of her desk, you would find, not once, but many times repeated, words like these: “I beg you, Margaret, tell me about the progress you are all making in your studies. For I assure you that, rather than allow my children to be idle and slothful, I would make a sacrifice of wealth, and bid adieu to other cares and business, to attend to my children and my family, amongst whom none is more dear to me than yourself, my beloved daughter.” “Jack! Jack! What has become of Jack?” Margaret looks around anxiously; but for once Jack is not in any particular mischief, and comes up to his father with a look of self-satisfaction at the fact, which is infinitely comical. “Look,” says his father, “how the little monkey knows already that he is going to be praised for the Latin letter he sent me to Court by the hand of the Bristol merchant.” He takes the little chap between his knees, and strokes his curls while he talks to them all. Indeed, each of them had done very well, and it was not only because he was their father and loved them dearly that their letters had given him such pleasure. Their letters were very good; the thought very well put; the Latin pure and correct. But John’s pleased him best of all, because it was longer, and showed that he had taken more trouble with it than the others had done. It was funny too, and some of his own jokes had been turned very wittily against himself; the which pleased him not a little. But even in this matter John had remembered not to go too far, and while he thrust and parried very prettily, he never forgot that he was fencing with his father. With that Cecy claps her hands in delight, for whatever of good or ill befalls Jack is her hap, too. “There is a mount for thee, too, Cecy,” her father promises her, and takes her and Jack, one on each knee, and goes on with his discourse.