The Bed-Book of Happiness  by Harold Begbie
page 208 of 431 (48%)
page 208 of 431 (48%)
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			 We wanted no stimulants of this sort [he is referring to social dissipation, romances, and playhouses] to _keep up our spirits_; our various pleasing pursuits were quite sufficient for that; and the _book-learning_ came amongst the rest of the pleasures, to which it was, in some sort, necessary. I remember that, one year, I raised a prodigious crop of fine _melons_, under hand-glasses; and I learned how to do it from a gardening-_book_; or, at least, that book was necessary to remind me of the details. Having passed part of an evening in talking to the boys about getting this crop, "Come," said I, "now let us _read the book."_ Then the book came forth, and to work we went, following very strictly the precepts of the book. I read the thing but once, but the eldest boy read it, perhaps, twenty times over; and explained all about the matter to the others. Why, here was a _motive_! Then he had to tell the garden labourer _what to do_ to the melons. Now, I will engage, that more was really _learned_ by this single _lesson_, than would have been learned by spending, at this son's age, a year at school; and he _happy_ and _delighted_ all the while. When any dispute arose among them about hunting or shooting, or any other of their pursuits, they, by degrees, found out the way of settling it by reference to some book; and, when any difficulty occurred as to the meaning, they referred to me, who, if at home, _always instantly attended to them_ in these matters. They began writing by taking words out of _printed books_: finding out which letter was which, by asking me, or asking those who knew the letters one from the other; and, by imitating bits of my writing, it is surprising how soon they began to write a hand like mine, very small, very faint-stroked, and nearly plain as print. The first use that any of them made of the pen, was to _write to me_, though in the same house  | 
		
			
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