sh, indulgent father, who is spoiling you."

"No, he did not know that," said Mrs Burnet, smiling, as she looked
from one to the other proudly. "And it is not true, is it, Vince?"

"No, mother, not a bit of it," cried the boy.

"And I feel sure that father will not send you away if you try hard to
master all your lessons with Mr Deane."

"Well, it isn't your father who is spoiling you now, Vince," said the
Doctor. "There: I'll give you another six months' trial; and, here--
which way are you going?"

"Round by the south cliff to look for Mike Ladelle."

"Ah, I daresay he's shut up in his father's study hard at work!"

"No, father; I've been up to the house, and they said he had gone out."

"There, go and get mended; and you may as well leave this medicine for
me at James Carnach's. It will be ready for you by the time your mother
has done."

"Yes, father--I'll come," cried the boy; and he hurried out of the
surgery.

"Ah!" said the Doctor, "you undo all my work by your foolish
indulgence."

Mrs Burnet smiled.

"I should be very miserable," she said, "if I could feel that all you
say is true."

"But see what a reckless young rascal he grows."

"No, I cannot see that, dear," replied Mrs Burnet. "He is a thorough,
natural boy, and I am glad to find him so fond of outdoor life."

"And not of his studies?"

"He works very hard at them, dear; and I'm sure you want to see him grow
up manly."

"Of course."

"And not a weak, effeminate lad, always reading books over the fire."

"No, but--"

"Let him go on as he is, dear," said Mrs Burnet gently; "and show him
that you take an interest in his sports."

"Spoil him more still?"

"No: encourage him in his love of natural history."

"And making the place untidy with his messing about. I say: by the way,
have you been at that bottle of acid?"

"I? No, dear."

"Then he has, for some of his sham experiments."

"Mother!"

"Coming, my dear," cried Mrs Burnet, in answer to the call; and she
hurried into the house, leaving the Doctor to write out the directions
upon a label, so that Jemmy Carnach--fisherman when the sea was calm,
and farmer when it was rough--might not make a mistake when he received
his bottle of medicine, and take it all at once, though it would not
have hurt him if he had.

"Nice boy!" muttered the Doctor, as he made a noose in a piece of twine
and carefully tied the label to the bottle; "but I wish the young plague
had been a