Another was feeling the top of his head. The cow began to crop the grass, still looking at him. Agamemnon had reached and opened the shed-door. The little boys were next seen running toward it. A crowd of neighbors, with pitchforks, had returned meanwhile with Elizabeth Eliza. Solomon John had brought four druggists. But, by the time they had reached the house, the three little boys were safe in the arms of their mother! “This is too dangerous a form of education,” she cried; “I had rather they went to school.” “No!” they bravely cried. They were still willing to try the other way. THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. MRS. PETERKIN’S nerves were so shaken by the excitement of the fall of the three little boys into the enclosure where the cow was kept that the educational breakfast was long postponed. The little boys continued at school, as before, and the conversation dwelt as little as possible upon the subject of education. Mrs. Peterkin’s spirits, however, gradually recovered. The little boys were allowed to watch the cow at her feed. A series of strings were arranged by Agamemnon and Solomon John, by which the little boys could be pulled up, if they should again fall down into the enclosure. These were planned something like curtain-cords, and Solomon John frequently amused himself by pulling one of the little boys up or letting him down. Some conversation did again fall upon the old difficulty of questions. Elizabeth Eliza declared that it was not always necessary to answer; that many who could did not answer questions,--the conductors of the railroads, for instance, who probably knew the names of all the stations on a road, but were seldom able to tell them. “Yes,” said Agamemnon, “one might be a conductor without even knowing the names of the stations, because you can’t understand them when they do tell them!” “I never know,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “whether it is ignorance in them, or unwillingness, that prevents them from telling you how soon one station is coming, or how long you are to stop, even if one asks ever so many times. It would be useful if they would tell.” Mrs. Peterkin thought this was carried too far in the horse-cars in Boston. The conductors had always left you as far as possible from the place where you wanted to stop; but it seemed a little too much to have the aldermen take it up, and put a notice in the cars, ordering the conductors “to stop at the farthest crossing.” Mrs. Peterkin was, indeed, recovering her spirits. She had been carrying on a brisk correspondence with Philadelphia, that she had imparted to no one, and at last she announced, as its result, that she was ready for a breakfast on educational principles. A breakfast indeed, when it appeared! Mrs. Peterkin had mistaken the alphabetical suggestion, and had grasped the idea that the whole alphabet must be represented in one breakfast.