'Did you expect that it would be too hard for him, Phyl?' said Jane,
laughing.
'No,' said Phyllis, 'but he said he could not do it as it was set.'
'And whose fault was that?' said Jane.
'Oh! but he showed me how to set it better,' said Phyllis, 'and he
said that when he learnt the beginning of fractions, he thought them
as hard as I do.'
'Fractions!' said Jane, 'you do not fancy you have come to fractions
yet! Fine work you will make of them when you do!'
In the evening, as soon as the children were gone to bed, Jane took a
paper out of her work-basket, saying, 'There, Emily, is my account of
Phyl's scrapes through this whole week; I told you I should write
them all down.'
'How kind!' muttered Claude.
Regardless of her brother, who had not looked up from his book, Jane
began reading her list of poor Phyllis's misadventures. 'On Monday
she tore her frock by climbing a laurel-tree, to look at a
blackbird's nest.'
'I gave her leave,' said Emily. 'Rachel had ordered her not to
climb; and she was crying because she could not see the nest that Wat
Greenwood had found.'
'On Tuesday she cried over her French grammar, and tore a leaf out of
the old spelling-book.
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