On the day that Jim and Ned had been so successful in obtaining the consent of their mother to put their plan into execution, Sam had experienced a severe trial: his father had indulged more freely his dreadful appetite, and although in general kind to his family, had begun to manifest a morose and sullen temper. Sam's mother was a good-natured, inoffensive woman, always endeavouring to make the best of things; managing as well as she could with what was in the house, and although sorely pinched sometimes, never finding fault with her husband. 'It would do no good,' she said, 'to be dinging at Oakum; it would only make him worse.' So the poor soul went on from day to day, doing her best, and always hoping, woman like, that he would be different one of these days; but on this eventful morning her accumulated grievances could no longer be repressed, and as her husband was about to leave the house, only to return at evening in a wretched condition, she ventured to say to him-- 'Oakum, don't you think you'd better not go up to the store to-day?' 'Don't I _think_ I'd better _not_? _No_, I don't--what makes you ask me?' 'Oh well, I didn't mean no harm; only you have been away so much lately.' 'Well, supposing I have, whose business is _that_, I want to know?' 'Why nobody's, I suppose; only you know, Oakum, we ain't got nothing in the house but them two fish you brought in this morning; there ain't no meal nor nothing.' 'No meal nor nothing; yes, there is meal: didn't I bring home some yesterday?' 'Well, you know how that was, the pigs got at it.' 'The pigs got at it--then why didn't you take care of it, and not let the pigs get the children's bread?' 'It wasn't mother's fault,' said Sam, who was by at the time, and knew all the circumstances. 'Whose fault was it then, you little vagabond?' 'I ain't a vagabond yet; but we shall all be soon, if you keep going to Grizzle's every day.' Sam's father was utterly confounded; he took off his hat and sat down. 'What, are my children going to rise up against me? Go out of the house, sir.' Poor Mrs. Oakum was in great trouble. Sam had said what was true; his father had, in a state of unconsciousness, left the flour at the mercy of the pigs; but she felt sorry that he had spoken, and Sam soon felt very sorry for it too; his conscience upbraided him; he went out of the house and kept as busy as he could, but he could not feel happy. By little and little Oakum found out from his wife all about the meal; he was thoroughly ashamed, asked for another bag, and immediately took his hat and departed.