Professor Jonathan Dominic Adams was a very great scholar. As everybody knew who knew anything, he was considered the authority on the Greek poets and everything appertaining to the Greek language, both ancient and modern. Greek was his hobby, his pleasure, the dream of his life, the Alpha and Omega of his every day's existence; and to anyone who would or could not converse on his favorite topic, the professor was most decidedly a bore.

      Dr. Adams was sufficiently a man of the world to know that he owed his being in a very great measure to a woman. He was aware also that besides the heroines who lived in his books, there were women who moved in the outer world. But beyond this knowledge he knew nothing of the weaker sex, to whom Greek, in most cases, was but a word and nothing more. Therefore it was with the greatest consternation that one summer evening, as he was strolling homewards across the Green Park, he caught himself thinking, not of his favorite and only topic, but of a woman, and that woman a very sweet and pretty creature of twenty-five.

      Dr. Adams tried his hardest to bring his thoughts into their usual, and to him, proper channel, but to no avail. To his horror he found that he had even forgotten some lines of Homer, but that he could not forget a pair of bright blue eyes and the smile of rosy lips. To the credit of the professor it must be said that he gave up the struggle, and for the remainder of the evening dreamed of Miss Julia Drewry, while Homer for the time being was dethroned.

      Now while Professor Jonathan Adams was dreaming of Miss Julia Drewry, Miss Julia Drewry was dreaming of Professor Jonathan Adams, thinking of him and the study of Greek literature. For she also was a great scholar, having left Girton with all the honors that it was possible for the fair student to take away with her. But although she knew everything that there was to be known about divinity, classics, mathematics, natural science, moral science, history, German, Anglo-Saxon, etc., etc., her favorite subject was Greek.

      Somewhat to her father's dismay, he perceived that his daughter ignored the natural pleasures of youth, while she pestered him from morning till night with dissertations on this dead language. Learned man as he was himself, and an old college friend of Dr. Adams, he would have preferred Julia to take more interest in her surroundings and mix more freely with her fellow-creatures, instead of spoiling her pretty eyes with continuous study. But no, Miss Julia turned up her little nose at the girls she met, and at the young men too, for up to the present she had not found one with whom she could talk upon the subjects which engrossed her mind. Her father had one slight consolation, and that was that the girl, with all her faults, took an interest in her personal appearance, dressing well, if in the Greek style. Whether she wore blue stockings he never inquired, and of course we cannot; besides, it has nothing whatever to do with the story.

      It so happened that one day, while taking his morning constitutional, Mr. Drewry stumbled across Dr. Adams, or, to put it more correctly, Dr. Adams stumbled over Mr. Drewry. The worthy professor, instead of looking where he was going, was walking along with his eyes fixed on the ground in a brown study.

      "Bless my heart!" exclaimed Drewry; "why, it's Adams. How are you — how are you? What an age it is since we have met!"

      "It must be ten years — ten long years; and yet it seems only yesterday," replied Adams.

      "Long enough for many changes. My poor wife has been dead these ten years; but, thank God, I have a daughter to look after me. You saw her when she was fifteen. And you, are you married?"

      "No, indeed," said the professor; "I am but wedded to my work."

      "Ah, yes, I have seen your name mentioned now and again in connection with your Greek studies. But don't let us stand here talking; come home with me. Julia has often expressed a wish to see you again; she has questions to ask you, and some theories to propound, for she also is Greek — very much so."

      The two friends walked home to Mr. Drewry's humble but neat little cottage in Fulham. And from that moment — and I tell it with sorrow — Mr. Drewry had, to put it vulgarly, to take a back seat. The professor found Julia charming, and Julia considered the professor delightful, while poor Mr. Drewry had to listen to endless arguments upon the eternal Greek. At first he endeavored to divert his guest and draw him out about old college days, but five minutes after Dr. Adams would turn to the daughter and take up the conversation at the point where he had been interrupted.

      The next day the professor called again, and also on the next, and so on, and so on, until he was regarded in the light of a tame cat. Mr. Drewry took to his newspapers and his books, leaving his guest for hours with his daughter.

      And what were the consequences?

      Why, that Professor Adams after six weeks found his eyes wandering to the fair Julia's face instead of keeping them upon the books the two were studying together. And Miss Drewry would think to herself, as she waited for the professor's diurnal visit, that she had at last met a man whom she would be happy to marry, despite the fact that he was on the wrong side of forty and had a very bald head.

      Matters had come to this serious point on the day Dr. Adams walked across the Green Park, and when the image of the girl totally obliterated the image of Homer. That night the professor, as has already been told, gave himself up to dreaming about Miss Julia, and the following afternoon he put two questions to her.

      The first was whether she would be willing to help him with a work he proposed to bring out in twenty volumes, namely, the "Lives of the Greek Poets," with criticisms on their poems, the whole to be written in Greek. To this proposition Julia readily consented.

      The second question was that, as the undertaking would be a work of years, and they would have to be continually together, would she object to becoming his wife to facilitate the plan. To this Miss Drewry, after a proper amount of womanly indecision, also consented.

      Mr. Drewry at first, somewhat naturally, objected to the marriage, but he was very soon overruled, and in two months the wedding took place. Although Autumn was united to Summer, the combination turned out a bright and happy one. The professor came to live at the cottage in Fulham, Mr. Drewry remaining with his daughter, and a more peaceful and contented trio never existed.

      The "Lives of the Greek Poets" went on flourishingly. The first volume appeared, and was received with great favor by the critics. But when the second volume was but half written a sudden interruption took place. It was a very natural one, and one to be wished for — a young Master Adams made his appearance upon the scene, of course to the overthrow of his mother's work.

      "For the time being only, I trust," the professor would say to himself, as he laid down his pen to act the part of errand-boy; for he was continually being desired to run for either the baby's bottle, or lime water, or such-like infantile requisites. Then he was asked to step upstairs and see his son smile for the first time, and now and again was even required to hold him.

      But after a few weeks of this unaccustomed occupation, Dr. Adams became impatient for his wife to return to the study and help him to carry on the work they had commenced together. So after hinting many times that he wished for her assistance, which hinting she seemed to ignore, he decided one morning to ask her point blank to give the baby in charge of the nurse, and devote a few hours to the "Lives of the Greek Poets."

      With this intention he went upstairs to his wife's room, and as the door was open, he heard her addressing somebody or something in a very peculiar, and to him entirely new, language. He paused on the landing and listened. If he had had any hair on the top of his head it would have stood on end. Could this be his classical Julia speaking this extraordinary jargon! This is part of what he heard:

      "Didums then love his icle barthy-warthy. The darding icle boysey-woysey! Agoo! Agoo! Didums try and bite the spongey-wongey, naughty icle sing! Naughty icle sing to make his back as stiff as a poker."

      Dr. Adams peeped through the opening of the door and beheld his wife washing the baby. He continued to listen.

      "Agoo! Agoo! Didums want to cry den when he's taken ou of de nicey warm water. There then, does him want to kick kicky-wicky, kicky-wicky — nurse, where is the powder? Ah thank you — was him being basted, then, like a icle chicken! Oh, I could eat him up, my pretty petty-wetty? I lub him so! Ah, poor, poor icle wee ting! Didums have the hiccoughs! Naughty, naughty hiccoughs! Shall mummy beat the horrid, nasty hiccoughs then — nurse pass me the sugar, please; perhaps that will do the little darling good. No sugar up here? Just ask Dr. Adams to fetch the sugar-basin from the dining-room cupboard."

      Professor Adams beat a precipitate retreat, and on gaining the hall seized his hat and went out for a long walk. With his hands thrust deep into his pockets, and his hat placed over his eyes, he gave himself up to very deep thought. But he thought not of the Greek language, but of the new tongue he had just heard. At first his face was very stern, but it gradually and gradually relaxed until it beamed forth into a very pleasant and sweet smile.

      "Ah, what a fool I have been!" he exclaimed. "What a pretty picture it was to see her bending over my baby boy, and speaking a language to him that he only could understand! Greek in future shall be for me. Baby in future shall be for Julia, with just a little bit of him for me also. Women can be, and are, very great, but what a little thing will upset their greatness, and make them what they ought to be sweeter and — and — well — why, women!"

      The "Lives of the Greek Poets" came out, but at longer intervals than was at first intended, for Dr. Adams did all the work himself. His wife was always ready to listen to the MS. when he read it aloud to her, and the professor was glad to get any advice that she might be able and willing to give.

      Mrs. Adams in future attended to the comforts of her husband, her baby, and her father, and was also glad to get any advice they were willing and able to give.

      Mr. Drewry was more happy than he had been for many a long day, for he could now get his daughter and son-in-law to talk on subjects other than Greek. But if he was ever at a loss for companionship, he could always resort to the new language, in which he was very proficient, and converse by the hour with his grandson, to their mutual benefit and pleasure.