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soak up the black marks with blotting-paper. "I will not have Dexter called `the poor boy.' He is not a poor boy. He is a human waif thrown up on life's shore. No, no: and you are not to call him a human waif. I shall well educate him, and place him on the high-road toward making his way properly in life as a gentleman should, and I'll show the whole world that I'm right." "You shall, papa," said Helen merrily; "and I will help you all I can." "I know you will, my dear, and you are helping me," cried the doctor warmly; "and it's very good of you. But I do wish we could make him think before he does anything. His mischievous propensities are simply horrible. And now, my dear, about his education. We must do something more, if it is only for the sake of keeping him out of trouble. You are doing nobly, but that is not enough. I did mean to read classics with him myself, but I have no time. My book takes too much thought. Now, I will not send the poor boy--" "`Poor boy,' papa!" said Helen merrily. "Eh? Did I say `poor boy'!" cried the doctor, scratching his nose again. "Yes." "Ah, well; I did not mean it. I was going to say I will not send him to another school. He would be under too many disadvantages, so I think we will decide upon a private tutor." "Yes, papa; a very excellent arrangement." "Yes, I think it is; and--well, Maria, what is it!" "Dan'l, sir," said that young lady, who spoke very severely, as if she could hardly contain her feelings; "and he'd be glad to know if you could see him a minute." "Send him in, Maria," said the doctor; and then, as the housemaid left the room, "Well, it can't be anything about Dexter now, because he is out there on the--" The doctor's words were delivered more and more slowly as he rose and walked toward the open window, while Helen felt uneasy, and full of misgivings. "Why, the young dog was here just now," cried the doctor angrily. "Now, really, Helen, if he has been at any tricks this time, I certainly will set up a cane." "O papa!" "Yes, my dear, I certainly will, much as I object to corporal punishment. Well, Daniel, what is it!" Old Dan'l had a straw hat in his hand--a hat that was rather ragged at the edge, and with which, as if it was to allay some irritation, he kept sawing one finger. "Beg pardon, sir--pardon, Miss," said Dan'l apologetically; "but if I might speak and say a few words--" "Certainly, Daniel; you ma
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