were produced; until one day she found the artist hard at work, putting a new binding on a petticoat. Then, "fixing her brilliant eyes with an expression of entire approbation upon the girl, she said: 'Now, my dear, that I find you can employ yourself usefully, I will no longer forbear to express my admiration of your drawings.'"
Only an early familiarity with the multiplication table could have made so ruthless a logician.
If Dr. Johnson, being childless, found other people's children in his way, how fared the bachelors and spinsters who, as time went on, were confronted by a host of infant prodigies; who heard little Anna Letitia Aikin—afterwards Mrs. Barbauld—read "as well as most women" at two and a half years of age; and little Anna Maria Porter declaim Shakespeare "with precision of emphasis and firmness of voice" at five; and little Alphonso Hayley recite a Greek ode at six. We wonder if anybody ever went twice to homes that harboured childhood; and we sympathize with Miss Ferrier's bitterness of soul, when she describes a family
