Take the looking-glass, for example, over there on the dressing-table: what about the brightness at the back of it which makes it reflect, and reflect not only what is in front of it but, as you have probably discovered by looking sideways at it, that which is apparently wholly out of its range too. I must confess that this strange power of a mirror amazes me as much as its ordinary gift of reflecting what is straight in front of it amazes a dog. The reflecting power of a mirror is obtained by spreading mercury or quicksilver on the back; but before this can be done the mercury has to be obtained, and that process is one of the most dangerous to men. Quicksilver is a most delightful plaything. The first school to which I was sent, a school for girls and boys, was kept by a little old Quaker lady with highly-magnifying, gold-rimmed spectacles, who, when we had been good, used to bring out a little bottle of quicksilver and pour great shining drops from it on the green baize table, and it would run about in all directions. No doubt she explained the origin and nature of mercury as it ran, but I have forgotten that. All that I remember and have always remembered is that the presence of the quicksilver proved that we had been good and that everyone was happy; and it remains in my mind as a sign of content. This little old lady with the gold-rimmed spectacles kept also a casket containing those yellow, round, gelatine lozenges which look like sovereigns, and which confectioners often use to mend broken windows with. One of them was given to any child who coughed. You should have heard what a lot of coughing there was! There I stopped the first lesson; and, as it happened, there the experiment stopped permanently. For I had let loose the furies! For the rest of that evening and the whole of the next morning, before we got them into the sea, the children did nothing but ask questions as to the origin of this and that. We were in despair, and my unpopularity reached a point almost beyond endurance. Frank avoided his family as though it owed him money; Wynne was undisguisedly testy, and even Mrs. Frank confessed that children's intelligences can be overstimulated. "At any rate," she said, "at Rimini and in summer. You must wait till we get back and it is colder." I accepted the decree with composure. "At any rate," I said, "you will admit that the idea was good." "It depends," she said, "on Frank. If he returns to his wife I will forgive you." CHAPTER XXV IN WHICH WE MAKE THE MISTAKE OF PREFERRING "RICH EYES" TO COMFORT, AND TASTE THE QUESTIONABLE PLEASURES OF A MINUTE REPUBLIC