Altogether a cool-headed and practical young lady, this midget
schoolma'am, with her uncompromising directness of speech and her clear
eyes--a merry, mirthful, frank, dainty, altogether delightful small
person.

Francis Charles stole an appreciative glance at the trim and jaunty
figure beside him and answered evasively:

"It was like this, you know: Was reading Mark Twain's 'Life on the
Mississippi.' On the first page he observes of that river that it draws
its water supply from twenty-eight States, all the way from Delaware to
Idaho. I don't just see it. Delaware, you know--that's pretty steep!"

"If it were not for his reputation I should suspect Mr. Clemens of
levity," said Mary. "Could it have been a slip?"

"No slip. It's repeated. At the end of the second chapter he says this--I
think I have it nearly word for word: 'At the meeting of the waters from
Delaware and from Itasca, and from the mountain ranges close upon the
Pacific--' Now what did he mean by making this very extraordinary
statement twice? Is there a catch about it? Canals, or something?"

"I think, perhaps," said Mary, "he meant to poke fun at our habit of
reading without attention and of accepting statement as proof."

"That's it, likely. But maybe there's a joker about canals. Wasn't there
a Baltimore and Ohio Canal? But again, if so, how did water from Delaware
get to Baltimore? Anyhow, that's how it all began--studying about canals.
For, how about this dry canal along here? It runs forty miles that I know
of--I've seen that much of it, driving Thompson's car. It must have cost