My dear the system upon which the Major commenced and as I may say
perfected Jemmy's learning when he was so small that if the dear was on
the other side of the table you had to look under it instead of over it
to see him with his mother's own bright hair in beautiful curls, is a
thing that ought to be known to the Throne and Lords and Commons and then
might obtain some promotion for the Major which he well deserves and
would be none the worse for (speaking between friends) L. S. D.-ically.
When the Major first undertook his learning he says to me:

"I'm going Madam," he says "to make our child a Calculating Boy.

"Major," I says, "you terrify me and may do the pet a permanent injury
you would never forgive yourself."

"Madam," says the Major, "next to my regret that when I had my
boot-sponge in my hand, I didn't choke that scoundrel with it--on the
spot--"

"There! For Gracious' sake," I interrupts, "let his conscience find him
without sponges."

"--I say next to that regret, Madam," says the Major "would be the regret
with which my breast," which he tapped, "would be surcharged if this fine
mind was not early cultivated. But mark me Madam," says the Major
holding up his forefinger "cultivated on a principle that will make it a
delight."

"Major" I says "I will be candid with you and tell you openly that if
ever I find the dear child fall off in his appetite I shall know it is