susceptibilities. Beyond the screen the _nick-nick_ of grandmother's
steel needles stopped and started again. It was characteristic of her
temperament that she should recover before the younger generations
could recover. Edward Henry, as befitted his sex, regained his nerve a
little earlier than Nellie.

"I told you never to touch my _Encyclopaedia_," said he, sternly.
Robert had twice been caught on his stomach on the floor with a vast
volume open under his chin, and his studies had been traced by vile
thumb-marks.

"I know," said Robert.

Whenever anybody gave that child a piece of unsolicited information he
almost invariably replied, "I know."

"But hydrophobia!" cried Nellie. "How did you know about hydrophobia?"

"We had it in spellings last week," Robert explained.

"The deuce you did!" muttered Edward Henry.

The one bright facet of the many-sided and gloomy crisis was the very
obvious truth that Robert was the most extraordinary child that ever
lived.

"But when on earth did you get at the _Encyclopaedia_, Robert?" his
mother exclaimed, completely at a loss.

"It was before you came in from Hillport," the wondrous infant