"But that's what you just couldn't, Miss Wisdom," said Tom. "For it's
all the harder when you know what goes before; for then you've got to
say what definition 3 is, and what axiom V is. But get along with you
now; I must go on with this. Here's the Latin Grammar. See what you can
make of that."

Maggie found the Latin Grammar quite soothing after her mathematical
mortification, for she delighted in new words, and quickly found that
there was an English Key at the end, which would make her very wise
about Latin, at slight expense. It was really very interesting--the
Latin Grammar that Tom had said no girls could learn, and she was proud
because she found it interesting.

"Now, then, Magsie, give us the Grammar!"

"Oh, Tom, it's such a pretty book!" she said, as she jumped out of the
large arm-chair to give it him; "it's much prettier than the Dictionary.
I could learn Latin very soon. I don't think it's at all hard."

"Oh, I know what you've been doing," said Tom; "you've been reading the
English at the end. Any donkey can do that."

Tom seized the book and opened it with a determined and business-like
air, as much as to say that he had a lesson to learn which no donkeys
would find themselves equal to. Maggie, rather piqued, turned to the
book-cases to amuse herself with puzzling out the titles.

George Eliot: "The Mill on the Floss."