merely allowed him to sob himself quiet. So
though his father still advocated whipping, she had concluded that
whipping led only to further nerve exhaustion and she had stopped that
form of punishment.

Half an hour later Roger rolled over on his back and stared for a moment
wide eyed, at the ceiling. Then he got up quickly and running over to
his mother, he threw his arms about her neck and kissed her
passionately.

"Oh, Mother! Mother! I love you so! I'm so sorry I slapped your hand. I
will be good! Oh, I will be good!"

He took the hand which he had struck in both his own and kissed it.

"Poor hand," he half sobbed, "poor hand!"

"All right, dear," said his mother, freeing her hand gently. "Now, go
make up with the other children."

Roger darted out the door and his mother heard him shouting to his
playmates.

It was an hour later that she went to the back door, to send Roger home
with Charley. What she saw there sent her flying once more to interfere
with the children's play. Fastened by bits of rope and twine to the
plank were her three choicest sofa cushions, of white silk which she
herself had embroidered. A child lay on its stomach on each of these,
wildly gesticulating with legs and arms while Roger played the garden
hose on them.

The four culprits in a sodden row before her, Mrs. Moore sought counsel
from Mrs. Wolf, who had come hurrying at her neighbor's call.

"What shall I do with him? It was his idea, he says."

"Sure it was," exclaimed Roger stoutly. "We were shipwrecked sailors.
The tempest had raged for three days like in 'Swiss Family Robinson.'"

"But why did you get the sofa cushions?" asked Mrs. Wolf.

"Oh, that was my invention to make the teeter-tauter more comfortable.
Then they made nice waves for us to rest our stomachs on when we swam."

"You knew how I prize those cushions. That one with the roses took me
all last winter to do," said Roger's mother sternly.

"I--I--yes, I kind of knew, but I forgot. I always forget when I'm
inventing. Don't I, Ern?"

Ern nodded and put his arm over Roger's shoulder.

"I must try to help you to remember, little son." Mrs. Moore sighed.
"For three days you cannot play with Ernie and Elschen."

Instantly a howl rose from the two little Wolfs. "We can't play without
Roger! It was our fault too!"

"Indeed, that's too hard on all of them, Mrs. Moore. We'll have bedlam
for three days," protested Mrs. Wolf.

"But he's always losing his temper