"YOU are ruining the children, my dear Sir William," said my gentle mother, one day when I had been particularly witty; "and the Abbe Montreuil declares it absolutely necessary that they should go to school." "To school!" said my uncle, who was caressing his right leg, as it lay over his left knee,--"to school, Madam! you are joking. What for, pray?" "Instruction, my dear Sir William," replied my mother. "Ah, ah; I forgot that; true, true!" said my uncle, despondingly, and there was a pause. My mother counted her rosary; my uncle sank into a revery; my twin brother pinched my leg under the table, to which I replied by a silent kick; and my youngest fixed his large, dark, speaking eyes upon a picture of the Holy Family, which hung opposite to him. My uncle broke the silence; he did it with a start. "Od's fish, Madam,"--(my uncle dressed his oaths, like himself, a little after the example of Charles II.)--"od's fish, Madam, I have thought of a better plan than that; they shall have instruction without going to school for it." "And how, Sir William?" "I will instruct them myself, Madam," and William slapped the calf of the leg he was caressing. My mother smiled. "Ay, Madam, you may smile; but I and my Lord Dorset were the best scholars of the age; you shall read my play." "Do, Mother," said I, "read the play. Shall I tell her some of the jests in it, Uncle?" My mother shook her head in anticipative horror, and raised her finger reprovingly. My uncle said nothing, but winked at me; I understood the signal, and was about to begin, when the door opened, and the Abbe Montreuil entered. My uncle released his right leg, and my jest was cut off. Nobody ever inspired a more dim, religious awe than the Abbe Montreuil. The priest entered with a smile. My mother hailed the entrance of an ally. "Father," said she, rising, "I have just represented to my good brother the necessity of sending my sons to school; he has proposed an alternative which I will leave you to discuss with him." "And what is it?" said Montreuil, sliding into a chair, and patting Gerald's head with a benignant air. "To educate them himself," answered my mother, with a sort of satirical gravity. My uncle moved uneasily in his seat, as if, for the first time, he saw something ridiculous in the proposal. The smile, immediately fading from the thin lips of the priest, gave way to an expression of respectful approbation. "An admirable plan," said he slowly, "but liable to some little exceptions, which Sir William will allow me to point out."