Numbers

The next time one of the children try to convince me they shouldn't have to get through a page of maths because maths is pointless anyway, I must remember to read them this from The Phantom Tollbooth. Milo has just arrived in the town of Digitopolis and met the Dodecahedron:

Don’t you know anything at all about numbers?”

“Well, I don’t think they’re very important,” snapped Milo, too embarrassed to admit the truth.

“NOT IMPORTANT!” roared the Dodecahedron, turning red with fury. “Could you have tea for two without the two – or three blind mice without the three? Would there be four corners of the earth if there weren’t a four? And how could you sail the seven seas without a seven?”

“All I meant was—” began Milo, but the Dodecahedron, overcome with emotion and shouting furiously, carried on.

“If you had high hopes, how would you know how high they were? And did you know that narrow escapes come in all different widths? Would you travel the whole wide world without ever knowing how wide it was? And how could you do anything at long last,” he concluded, waving his arms over his head, “without knowing how long the last was? Why, numbers are the most beautiful and valuable things in the world. Just follow me and I’ll show you.” He turned on his heel and stalked off into the cave.