AN ARITHMETICAL PUZZLE.A sunny and a dark head, both bent over a much-befigured, much-besmearedslate, the small brows beneath the curls puckered,--the one inperplexity, the other with sympathy; opposite these two a third headwhose carrotty hue betrayed it to be Jim's, although the faceappertaining thereto was hidden from my view, as its owner, upon hishands and knees, also peered with interest at the slate. Wanderer,familiarly known as "Wand,"--the household dog, and the inseparablecompanion of my little sisters,--lay at their feet, as they sat upon alow rustic seat, manufactured for their special behoof by the devotedJim; its chief characteristic being a tendency to upset, unless theoccupant or occupants maintained the most exact balance, a seat not tobe depended upon by the unwary or uninitiated, under penalty of adisagreeable surprise. To Allie and Daisy, however, it was a work ofart, and left nothing to be desired, they having become accustomed toits vagaries.Such was the picture which presented itself to my view as I came out onthe piazza of our summer-home by the sea, and from that point ofvantage looked down upon the little group on the lawn below.But the problem upon which all three were intent had evidently provedtoo much for the juvenile arithmeticians; and, as I looked, Alliepushed the slate impatiently from her, saying,--"I can't make it out, Jim: it's too hard. You are too mixed up.""Now, Miss Allie! an' you with lessons every day," said Jimreproachfully. "Should think you might make it out.""I'm not so very grown up, Jim," answered the little girl; "and I'venot gone so very far in the 'rithmetic; and I'm sure this kind of a summust be in the very back part of the book.""Here comes Bill," said Jim, as a boy of his own age and socialstanding appeared around the corner of the house, a tin pail in onehand, a shrimp-net in the other. "Maybe he'll know. Mr. Edward's taughthim lots of figgerin'. Come on, Bill, an' help me an' Miss Allie makeout this sum. You ought to know it, bein' a Wall-street man."Allie said nothing; but I saw a slight elevation of her little head anda pursing of her rosy lips, which told me that she did not altogetherrelish the idea that a servant-boy might possess superior knowledge toherself, although he might be nearly double her age. Allie's sense ofclass distinctions was strong.Having faith in his own attainments, however, the "Wall-streetman"--this was the liberal interpretation put by Jim upon his positionas office-boy to brother Edward--deposited his pail and net upon theground, and himself in a like humble position beside his fellow-servantand chum. He might be learned, but he was not proud by reason thereof."Now le's see, Miss Allie," he said; "what is it you're tryin' tofigger out?""It's Jim's sum; and I can't see a bit of sense in it, even when it'sdown on the slate," answered Allie, still in a somewhat aggrieved tone."He's as mixed up as a--as a--any thing," she concluded hastily, at aloss for a simile of sufficient force. --This text refers to the Kindle Edition edition.