"I don't know," said Peggy. "Wulf Greiner was licked by teacher, and
he's thirteen. It's whether it's mighty bad, you know."

Johnny-Ivan caught his breath and his legs shook under him; the horror
of his father's "licking" him came over him cold; it was not the pain;
he had never minded Hilma's sturdy blows and he had let Michael cut a
splinter out of his thumb with a pocket-knife, and never whimpered; it
was the ignominy, the unknown terror of his father's wrath that looked
awful to him. As he looked down the crowded room and suddenly beheld
Winslow's face bent gravely over Miss Hopkins, who was talking
earnestly, he could hardly move his feet. Yet he had no thought of
wavering. "I _got_ to tell," he said, and walked as fast as he could,
with his white face, straight to the group.

Winslow looked down and saw the two children; and one could discover the
signals of calamity in their faces: Peggy's a fine scarlet and
Johnny-Ivan's grayish-white.

"What's the matter, Johnny?" asked Winslow.

Johnny's eyelids were glued tight--just as they were when he pulled
Peggy's tooth--he blurted everything out breathlessly: "I've done
something _awful_, papa! It'll cost thousands of dollars."

Emma Hopkins had considered Winslow an unattractive man, of a harsh
visage, but now, as he looked at his little son, she changed her mind.

"What did you do, son?" said he quietly; his hand found Johnny's brown
curls and lay on them a second.

"He didn't do it, really; it was _me_," Peggy broke in, too agitated for
grammar. "I was playing with the little tricks on the table, the models,
sah, and I was making the v'losipid run round and he was 'fraid I'd
break it; but _I_ did it, really, sah."

"And the model fell on to something valuable? I see."

"But he wasn't playing with it, he was only trying to keep me from
breaking--"

"Well, young lady, you two are evidently in the same boat; but you
aren't a bit sneaky, either of you. Let's see the wreckage; I suppose
you got into trouble because you wanted to see how things worked, and
Johnny, as usual, couldn't keep out of other folks' hot water. Where's
the ruin?"

"The show-case is broked, too," said Johnny-Ivan in a woeful, small
voice.

"But it was cracked before," interjected Peggy.

Winslow looked at her with a little twist. "That's a comfort," said he,
"and you have horse sense, my little Southerner. I guess you didn't
either of you mean any harm--"

"Indeed, no, sah, and Joh