Armine broke in with “Nine times one are nine.” It was an institution dating from the days when Janet made her first acquaintance with the “Little Busy Bee,” that there should be something, of some sort, said or shown to papa, whenever he was at home or free between dinner and bed-time, and it was considered something between a disgrace and a misfortune to produce nothing. So when the two little ones had been kissed and sent off to bed, with mamma going with them to hear their prayers, Jock, on being called for, repeated a Greek declension with two mistakes in it, Bobus showed a long sum in decimals, Janet, brought a neat parallelism of the present tense of the verb “to be” in five languages--Greek, Latin, French, German, and English. “And Allen--reposing on your honours? Eh, my boy?” Allen looked rather foolish, and said, “I spoilt it, papa, and hadn’t time to begin another.” “It--I suppose I am not to hear what till it has come to perfection. Is it the same that was in hand last time?” “No, papa, much better,” said Janet, emphatically. “What I want to see,” said Dr. Brownlow, “is something finished. I’d rather have that than ever so many magnificent beginnings.” Here he was seized upon by Robert, with his knitted brow and a book in his hands, demanding aid in making out why, as he said, the tide swelled out on the wrong side of the earth. His father did his best to disentangle the question, but Bobus was not satisfied till the clock chimed his doom, when he went off with Jock, who was walking on his hands. “That’s too tough a subject for such a little fellow,” said the grandmother; “so late in the day too!” “He would have worried his brain with it all night if he had not worked it out,” said his father. “I’m afraid he will, any way,” said the mother. “Fancy being troubled with dreams of surging oceans rising up the wrong way!” “Yes, he ought to be running after the tides instead of theorising about them. Carry him off, Mother Carey, and the whole brood, without loss of time.” “But Joe, why should we not wait for you? You never did send us away all forlorn before!” she said, pleadingly. “We are all quite well, and I can’t bear going without you.” “I had much rather all the chickens were safe away, Carey,” he said, sitting down by her. “There’s a tendency to epidemic fever in two or three streets, which I don’t like in this hot weather, and I had rather have my mind easy about the young ones.” “And what do you think of my mind, leaving you in the midst of it?” “Your mind, being that of a mother bird and a doctor’s wife, ought to have no objection.” “How soon does Dr. Drew come home?” “In a fortnight, I believe. He wanted rest terribly, poor old fellow. Don’t grudge him every day.” “A fortnight!” (as if it was a century). “You can’t come for a fortnight. Well, perhaps it will take a week to fix on a place.”