begin upon its old learning. The little boys declared it was none too
late. They could not say the alphabet backward now, and could never
remember whether _u_ came before _v_; and the voyage would be
a long one, and before they reached Egypt, very likely they would have
forgotten all.

It was about this voyage that Mrs. Peterkin had much doubt. What she was
afraid of was getting in and out of the ships and boats. She was afraid
of tumbling into the water between, when she left the wharf. Elizabeth
Eliza agreed with her mother in this, and began to calculate how many
times they would have to change between Boston and Egypt.

There was the ferry-boat across to East Boston would make two changes;
one more to get on board the steamer; then Liverpool--no, to land at
Queenstown would make two more,--four, five changes; Liverpool, six.
Solomon John brought the map, and they counted up. Dover, seven; Calais,
eight; Marseilles, nine; Malta, if they landed, ten, eleven; and
Alexandria, twelve changes.

Mrs. Peterkin shuddered at the possibilities, not merely for herself,
but for the family. She could fall in but once, but by the time they
should reach Egypt, how many would be left out of a family of eight?
Agamemnon began to count up the contingencies. Eight times twelve would
make ninety-six chances (8 × 12 = 96). Mrs. Peterkin felt as if all
might be swept off before the end could be reached.

Solomon John said it was not usual to allow more than one chance in a
hundred. People always said "one in a hundred," as though that were the
usual thing expected. It was not at all likely that the whole family
would be swept off.