"Oh, father--who asked? We were talking of it over to Josie Dean's. I knew mother wouldn't let me go. I--I said so." Charles' fair face was very red. "You put them up to ask!" "No, I didn't. They never said a word about it. Why, I wouldn't have asked them to do it." Mr. Reed looked suspiciously at his son. "You don't care to go?" "Yes, I do, very much." The boy's voice was tremulous. "Why couldn't _you_ ask me?" "Because you would leave it to mother, and she would say it was not worth while." "Was that what you told them?" Mr. Reed was truly mortified. No man likes to be considered without power in his own household. "I--I think it was," hesitated the boy. The girls had started an insurrection, sure enough. Well, the poor lad had no chance before. It was not a hope swept away, there had been no hope. But now he gave up. "Don't be a fool nor a coward," exclaimed his father gruffly. "Here, get your hat and go straight over to the Deans'. Tell them your _father_ says you can go to singing-school next Saturday afternoon, that he will be very glad to have you go. And next time you want anything ask me." If the boy had only dared clasp his father's hand and thank him, but he had been repressed and snipped off and kept in leading-strings too long to dare a spontaneous impulse. So he walked over as if he had been following some imaginary chalk line. The Deans were all up in the back parlor. He did his errand and came back at once, before Josie and Tudie had recovered from their surprise. Nothing else happened. Mrs. Reed went out presently to do the Saturday-night marketing. She preferred to go alone. She could make better bargains. When she returned Mr. Reed lighted his cigar and took a stroll around the block. There was no smoking in the house, hardly in the back yard. Saturday noon Mrs. Reed said to her son: "You are to go to singing-school this afternoon. If I hear of your loitering with any bad boys, or misbehaving in any way, that will end it." The poor lad had not felt sure for a moment. Oh, how delightful it was! though a boy nudged him and said, "Sissy, does your mother know you're out," and two or three others called him "Anna Maria Jemima Reed." However, as Mr. Bradbury was trying voices by each row, the sweetness of Charles' struck him, and he asked him to remain when the others were dismissed. One other boy and several girls were in this favored class, and next week they had the seats of honor. The next great thing for all the children was the May walk. All the Sunday-schools joined in a grand procession and marched down Broadway to Castle Garden. There was a standard-bearer with a large banner, and several smaller ones in every school. The teachers were with the classes, the parents and friends were to be at the Garden. Most of the little girls had their new white dresses, the boys their summer suits and caps. For May was May then, all but Quaker week, when it was sure to rain.