going to set my sisters afloat in literature.'

'How!'

'Well, I don't see why they shouldn't try their hands at a little
writing, instead of giving lessons, which doesn't suit them a
bit. Last night, when I got back from Wimbledon, I went to look
up Davies. Perhaps you don't remember my mentioning him; a fellow
who was at Jolly and Monk's, the publishers, up to a year ago. He
edits a trade journal now, and I see very little of him. However,
I found him at home, and had a long practical talk with him. I
wanted to find out the state of the market as to such wares as
Jolly and Monk dispose of. He gave me some very useful hints, and
the result was that I went off this morning and saw Monk himself
--no Jolly exists at present. "Mr Monk," I began, in my blandest
tone--you know it--"I am requested to call upon you by a lady who
thinks of preparing a little volume to be called 'A Child's
History of the English Parliament.' Her idea is, that"--and so
on. Well, I got on admirably with Monk, especially when he learnt
that I was to be connected with Culpepper's new venture; he
smiled upon the project, and said he should be very glad to see a
specimen chapter; if that pleased him, we could then discuss
terms.'

'But has one of your sisters really begun such a book?' inquired
Amy.

'Neither of them knows anything of the matter, but they are
certainly capable of doing the kind of thing I have in mind,
which will consist largely of anecdotes of prominent statesmen. I