"Jud twitted me about my mother taking in washing and about my father being a convict, and I knocked him down. I told him I would kill him. Uncle Barnabas pulled me off." "And then?" "Then he let us fight it out." "And you licked?" "Yes, sir," replied the boy, with proud modesty. "You naturally would, with that under jaw, but it's the animal in us that makes us want to kill, and the man in us should rise above the animal. I think I am the person to tell you about your father. He had every reason to make good, but he was unfortunate in his choice of associates and he acquired some of their habits. He had a violent temper, and one night when he was--" "Drunk," supplied David gravely. "He became angry with one of his friends and tried to kill him. Your father was given a comparatively short sentence, which he had almost served when he died. You must guard against your temper and cultivate patience and endurance--qualities your mother possessed." It suddenly and overwhelmingly flashed across David what need his mother must have had for such traits, and he turned away to force back his tears. The Judge saw the heaving of the slender, square, young shoulders, and the gray eyes that were wont to look so coldly upon the world and its people grew soft and surprisingly moist. "It's past now, David, and can't be helped, but you are going to aim to be the kind of man your mother would want you to be. You must learn to put up with Jud's tyranny because his father and his aunt are your benefactors. I have been away the greater part of the time since your father's death, or I should have kept track of you and your mother. Every time you come to town I want you to come up here and report to me. Will you?" "Thank you, sir. And I will bring you some more flowers." CHAPTER VII "Whar wuz you, Dave, all the time we wuz in town?" asked Barnabas, as they drove homeward. "In Judge Thorne's office." "Judge Thorne's office! What fer?" "He asked me there, Uncle Barnabas. He was my father's lawyer once, you know." "So he wuz. I hed fergot." "He warned me against my temper, as you did, and he told me--all about my father." "I am glad he did, Dave. He wuz the one to tell you." "He says that every time I come to Lafferton I must come up and report to him." "Wal, Dave, it does beat all how folks take to you. Thar wuz Joe wanted you, and now Mart Thorne's interested. Mebby they could do better by you than we could. Joe's rich, and the Jedge is well fixed and almighty smart." "No," replied David stoutly. "I'd rather stay with you, Uncle Barnabas. There's something you've got much more of than they have." "What's that, Dave?" asked Barnabas curiously. "Horse sense." Barnabas looked pleased. "Wal, Dave, I callate to do my best fer you, and thar's one thing I want _you_ to git some horse sense about right off." "All right, Uncle Barnabas. What is it?" "Feedin' on them fairy stories all day. They hain't hullsome diet fer a boy."