odily to the rack, and took his
hat therefrom.

"Ready at last. I declare I'm out of all patience with your slow
movements and sulky manner. What do you stand there for, knitting
your brows and pouting your lips? Straighten out your face, sir! I
won't have a boy of mine put on such a countenance."

The lad, thus angrily and insultingly rated, made a feeble effort to
throw a few rays of sunshine into his face. But, the effort died
fruitless. All was too dark, sullen, and rebellious within his
bosom.

"See here." Mr. Belknap still spoke in that peculiar tone of command
which always stifles self-respect in the one to whom it is
addressed.

"Do you go down to Leslie's and tell him to send me a good claw
hammer and three pounds of eightpenny nails. And go quickly."

The boy turned off without a word of reply, and was slowly moving
away, when his father said, sharply:

"Look here, sir!"

John Thomas paused and looked back.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

"What did I tell you to do?"

"Go get a claw hammer and three pounds of eightpenny nails."

"Very well. Why did n't you indicate, in some way, that you heard
me? Have n't I already this morning read you a lecture about this
very thing? Now, go quickly. I'm in a hurry."

For all this impatience and authority on the part of Mr. Belknap,
John Thomas moved away at a snail's pace; and as the former in a
state of considerable irritability, gazed after the boy, he felt
strongly tempted to call him back, and give him a good flogging in
order that he might clearly comprehend the fact of his being in
earnest. But as this flogging was an unpleasant kind of business,
and had, on all previous occasions, been succeeded by a repentant
and self-accusing state, Mr. Belknap restrained his indignant
impulses.

"If that stubborn, incorrigible boy returns in half an hour, it will
be a wonder," muttered Mr. Belknap, as he came back into the
sitting-room. "I wish I knew what to do with him. There is no
respect or obedience in him. I never saw such a boy. He knows that
I'm in a hurry; and yet he goes creeping along like a tortoise, and
ten chances to one, if he does n't forget his errand altogether
before he is halfway to Leslie's. What is to be done with him, Aunt
Mary?"

Mr. Belknap turned, as he spoke to an elderly lady, with a mild,
open face, and clear blue eyes, from which goodness looked forth as
an angel. She was a valued relative, who was paying him a brief
visit.