As the time went on, Jane's brain grew very busy. Its care was the education of her boys—a perplexing theme. So far as the classics went, they were progressing. Frank and Gar certainly were not pushed on as they might have been, for Helstonleigh collegiate school was not at that time renowned for its pushing qualities; but the boys had a spur in themselves. Jane never ceased to urge them to attention, to strive after progress; not by the harsh reproaches some children have to hear, but by loving encouragement and gentle persuasion. She would call up pleasant pictures of the future, when they should have surmounted the difficulties of toil, and be reaping their reward. It had ever been her custom to treat her children as friends; as friends and companions, more than as children. I am not sure that it is not a good plan in all cases, but it undoubtedly is so where children are naturally well disposed and intelligent. Even when they were little, she would converse and reason with them, so far as their understandings would permit. The primary thing she inculcated was the habit of unquestioning obedience. This secured in their earliest childhood, she could afford to reason with them as they grew older; to appeal to their own sense of intelligence; to show them how to form and exercise a right judgment. Had the children been wilful, deceitful, or opposed to her, her plan must have been different; compulsion must have taken the place of reasoning. When they did anything wrong—all children will, or they are not children—she would take the offender to her alone. There would be no scolding; but in a grave, calm, loving voice she would say, "Was this right? Did you forget that you were doing wrong and would grieve me? Did you forget that you were offending God?" And so she would talk; and teach them to do right in all things, for the sake of right, for the sake of doing their duty to Heaven and to man. These lessons from a mother loved as Jane was, could not fail to take root and bear seed. The young Halliburtons were in fair training to make not only good, but admirable men.

Jane inculcated another valuable lesson. In all perplexity, trouble, or untoward misfortune, she taught them to look it full in the face; not to fly from it, as is the too-common custom, but to meet it and do the best with it. She knew that in trouble, as in terror, looking it in the face takes away half its sting: and so she was teaching them to look, not only by precept, but by example. With such minds, such training to work upon, there was little need to urge them to apply closely to their studies; they saw its necessity themselves, and acted upon it. "It is your only chance, my darlings, of getting on in life," she would say. "You wish to be good and great men; and I think perhaps you may be, if you persevere. It is a tempting thing, I know, to leave wearying tasks for play or idleness; but do not yield to it. Look to the future. When you feel tired, out of sorts, as if Latin were the greatest grievance upon earth, say to yourselves, 'It is my duty to keep on, and my duty I must do. If I turn idle now, my past application will be lost; but, if I persevere, I may go bravely on to the end.' Be brave, darlings, for my sake."

And the boys were so. Thus it would happen that when the rest of the school were talking, or idling, or being caned, the Halliburtons were at work. The head master could not fail to observe their steady application; and he more than once held them up as an example to the school.

So far so good. But though the classics are essential parts of a good education, they do not include all its requisites. And nothing else was taught in the college school. There certainly was a writing master, and something like an initiation into the first rules of arithmetic was attempted; but not a boy in the charity school, hard by, that could not have shamed the college boys in adding up a column of figures or in writing a page. As to their English——You should have seen them attempt to write a letter. In short, the college school ignored everything except Latin and Greek.

This state of affairs gave Jane great concern. "Unless I can organize some plan, my boys will grow up dunces," she said to herself. And a plan she did organize. None could remedy this so well as herself; she, so thoroughly educated in all essential branches. It would take two hours from her work, but for the sake of her boys she would sacrifice that. Every night, therefore, except Saturday, as soon as they had prepared their lessons for school—and in doing that they were helped by William—she left her work and became their instructor. History, geography, astronomy, composition, and so on. You can fill up the list.

And she had her reward. The boys advanced rapidly. As the months and quarters went on, it was only so much the more instruction gained by them.

I think you must be indulged with a glance at one of these college school notes. But, first of all, suppose we read one written by Frank.

"Dear Glenn,—Thanks for wishing me to join your fishing expedition the day after to-morrow, but I can't come. My mother says, as I had a holiday from college one day last week, it will not do to ask for it again. You told me to send word this evening whether or not, so I drop you this note. I should like to go, and shall be thinking of you all day. Mind you let me have a look at the fish you bring home. Yours,

"Frank Halliburton."

The note was addressed "Glenn senior," and Gar was ordered to deliver it at Glenn senior's house. Glenn senior, who was a king's scholar, not a chorister, made a wry face over it when delivered, and sat down on the spur of the moment to answer it:

"Deer Haliburton,—Its all stuf about not asking for leve again what do the musty old prebens care who gets leve therell be enuff to sing without you tell your mother I cant excuse you from our party theirs 8 of us going and a stunning baxket of progg as good go out for a day's fishing has stop at home on a holiday for the benefit of that preshous colledge bring me word you'll come to-morrow at skool for we want to arrange our plans yours old fellow

"P Glenn."

Master P. Glenn was concluding his note when his father passed through the room and glanced over the boy's shoulder. He (Mr. Glenn) was a surgeon; one of the chief surgeons attached to the Helstonleigh infirmary, and in excellent practice. "At your exercise, Philip?"

"No, papa. I am writing a note to one of our fellows. I want him to be of our fishing party on Wednesday."

"Wednesday! Have you a holiday on Wednesday?"

"Yes. Don't you know it will be a saint's day?"

"Not I," said Mr. Glenn. "Saints' days don't concern me as they do you college boys. That's a pretty specimen of English!" he added, running his amused eyes over Philip's note.

"Are there any mistakes in it?" returned Philip. "But it's no matter, papa. We don't profess to write English in the college school."

"It is well you don't profess it," remarked Mr. Glenn. "But how is it your friend Halliburton can turn out good English?" He had taken up Frank's letter.

"Oh! they are such chaps for learning, the two Halliburtons. They stick at it like a horse-leech—never getting the cane for turned lessons. They have school at home in the evenings for English, and history, and such stuff that they don't get at college."

"Have they a tutor?"

"They are not rich enough for a tutor. Mrs. Halliburton's the tutor. What do you think Gar Halliburton did the other day? Keating was having a row with the fourth desk, and he gave them some extra verses to do. Up goes Gar Halliburton, before he had been a minute at his seat. 'If you please, sir,' says he to Keating, 'I had better have another piece.' 'Why so?' asks Keating. 'Because,' says Gar, 'I did these same verses with my brother at home a week ago.' He meant his eldest brother; not Frank. But, now, was not that honourable, papa?"

"Yes, it was," answered Mr. Glenn.

"That's just the Halliburtons all over. They are ultra-honourable."

"I should like to see your friend Frank, and inquire how he manages to pick up his English."

"Let me bring him to tea to-morrow night!" cried Philip eagerly.

"You may, if you like."

"Hurrah!" shouted Philip. "And you'll persuade him not to mind his mother, but to come to our fishing party?"

"Philip!"

"Well, papa, I don't mean that, exactly. But I do not see the use of boys listening to their mothers just in everything."

Philip Glenn seized his note, and added a postscript:—"My father sais you are to come to tea to-morrow we shall be so joly." And it was despatched to Frank by a servant in livery.