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