Whether she might have been over-crammed with useless knowledge, was not a question in connection with the subject which occurred to anybody.
"Rouse yourself, Zo," said Mr.Gallilee.

"What did we have besides ices ?" Zoe (known to her father, by vulgar abbreviation, as "Zo") took Mr.
Gallilee's stumpy red hand, and held hard by it as if that was the one way in which a dull child could rouse herself, with a prospect of success.
"I've had so many of them," she said; "I don't know.

Ask Maria." Maria responded with the sweetest readiness.

"Dear Zoe, you are so slow! Cheesecakes." Mr.Gallilee patted Zoe's head as encouragingly as if she had discovered the right answer by herself.

"That's right--ices and cheese-cakes," he said.