p. 90 | A CHILD'S PHILOSOPHY

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Dec 11, 1893

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 20, No. 6.

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A CHILD'S PHILOSOPHY.

"SPELL toes," said the mother, who was teaching her little daughter, several years old, to spell.

"T-o-z-e," answered the child.

"No, dear, that's not right. T-o-e-s spells toes."

"But it sounds like t-o-z-e."

"I know it, but you cannot go by the sound."

Then, in order to enforce this proposition, the mother called on her daughter to spell froze.

"F-r-o-e-s," said the child.

"No, you're wrong again. This time we do use the z, and spell the word f-r-o-z-e."

"Huh!" grunted the child.

"Now spell rose," said the mother.

The child hesitated. Finally she said, "I don't know whether to say r-o-z-e or r-o-e-s, and, really, I don't know that either way would be right."

"Spell it r-o-s-e," said the mother, "though there is another word pronounced just like it that's spelled r-o-e-s. That word is the name of the spawn of fishes."

The poor little child looked quite miserable.

"Just one more word," said the mother. "Tell me how you spell blows."

"Well," said the child, who had quite enough nonsense, as she viewed it, from her mother, and had suddenly made up her mind to pay back in kind, "I spell it three ways: I spell it b-l-o-s-e for breakfast, b-l-o-e-s for dinner, and b-l-o-z-e for supper."

"I spell it b-l-o-w-s all the time," said the mother.

The child said nothing for a minute or two, then, looking up, she solemnly remarked:

"I think, mamma, that the English language was made for persons very, very well educated."—New York Times.