force--by floods, or subsidence of the earth, or is destroyed by
lightning or fire?"

"No!" he answered, with such tremendous emphasis that he almost made me
jump from my seat. "Are you alone so ignorant of these things that you
speak of building and of pulling down a house?"

"Well, I fancied I knew a lot of things once," I answered, with a sigh.
"But perhaps I was mistaken--people often are. I should like to hear you
say something more about all these things--I mean about the house and
the family, and the rest of it."

"Are you not, then, able to read--have you been taught absolutely
nothing?"

"Oh yes, certainly I can read," I answered, joyfully seizing at once on
the suggestion, which seemed to open a simple, pleasant way of escape
from the difficulty. "I am by no means a studious person; perhaps I am
never so happy as when I have nothing to read. Nevertheless, I do
occasionally look into books, and greatly appreciate their gentle,
kindly ways. They never shut themselves up with a sound like a slap, or
throw themselves at your head for a duffer, but seem silently grateful
for being read, even by a stupid person, and teach you very patiently,
like a pretty, meek-spirited young girl."

"I am very pleased to hear it," said he. "You shall read and learn all
these things for yourself, which is the best method. Or perhaps I ought
rather to say, you shall by reading recall them to your mind, for it is
impossible to believe that it has always been in its present pitiable
condition. I can only attribute such a mental state, with its disordered