ng
wrong."

"Pooh! pooh! You're too hard on Phil by a long way," exclaimed Joe
Sweetman earnestly, springing from his chair and pacing up and down the
room. "Give him a chance. Every dog must have his day, you know. Let
him get rid of some of his wild spirits, and then perhaps he will be
quite ready to fall in with your wishes. You accuse me of constantly
egging the lad on. I deny that charge, Edward, and I do most sincerely
wish that you could see the facts as they are. Perhaps I should not
speak, for he is your protege, not mine; but, just for a moment look
squarely at the facts. Does the lad lead a happy life in his home? I
tell you that he does not. He has comfort and plenty of good food, but
the house is not brightened for the boy, and once within its walls he
has learnt to subdue and cloak a naturally sunny nature simply because
gay laughter and light-hearted chatter are disapproved of. Can you
wonder, then, that he is inclined to run riot outside? His high spirits
get the better of him, and he is ready for any fun--fun, mark you,
Edward, on which you and I might look and never feel ashamed--for,
mischievous though he is, he has a healthy mind."

Joe tossed his head in the air, thrust his fat hands beneath the tails
of his coat, and leaned against the mantel-piece, staring hard at Mr
Western. "Come," he continued, with an easy laugh, "think better of it,
Edward. Pack the lad off to school, and leave him more to himself.
He'll go straight, I'll wager anything upon it."

"Thank you, Joseph! I do not bet," Mr Western replied. "But I will do
as you say. Philip shall go away, and his future must depend upon
himself. Not all the arguments in the world will persuade me that there
is any truth in the saying that it is good for young fellows to sow
their wild oats before settling down to the serious business of life.
Now let us go into the garden."

Mr Western rose slowly from his chair, and, opening a large glass door,
stepped on to a verandah which surrounded his house and formed a most
charming spot in which to sit during the heat of a summer's day. Joe
followed him, still chuckling at the memory of the mayor's discomfiture,
and together they stood looking out across the well-kept garden, with
its beds of bright-coloured flowers, its splashing fountain, and its
walls lined by rows of carefully-pruned trees. It was a scene which
differed greatly from the monotony and lack of joyousness which marke