"It's like this Malcolm," said Aunt Margaret gently. "Mother had charge of you for ten years. The women she employed didn't train you as boys should be, so mother has turned you over to father. For the next ten years you will try _another_ plan; after that, you will be big enough to decide how you want to live; but now I think you will just love father's way, if you will behave yourself long enough to find out what fun it is." "Mother won't like it," said Malcolm positively. "I think she does dear, or she wouldn't have gone and left you to try it," said Aunt Margaret. "She knew what your father would think you should do; if she hadn't thought he was _right_ she would have taken you with her, as before." "I just hate being taken on trains and boats with her. So does James! We like the dam, the fish, and we're going to have bows and arrows, to shoot at mark. "And we are going to swim and row," added William. "And we are going to be soldiers, and hurl back the enemy," boasted Malcolm, "ain't we Mr. Tower?" "Indian scouts are more fun," suggested the tutor. "And there is the money we must earn, if we've _got_ to," said Malcolm. "I guess father is telling James how. I'll go ask him too. Excuse me, Aunt Margaret!" "Of all the surprises I ever did have, this is the biggest one!" said Aunt Margaret. "I was afraid I never could like them. I thought this morning it would take years." "There is nothing like the receptivity and plasticity of children," said the tutor. Later James Minturn appeared on his veranda with a small boy clinging to each hand. The trio came forth with red eyes, but firmly allied. "Call the car, if you please, William," said Senior. "I am going to help build that dam higher, and see how many fish I can catch for my pool." Malcolm walked beside him, rubbing his head caressingly across an arm. "We don't have to go on the streets and hunt," he announced. "Father is going to find us work. While the war is so bad, we'll drink milk, and send what we earn to boys who have no father. The war won't take our father, will it?" "To-night we will pray God not to let that happen," said Aunt Margaret. "Is there room in the car for me too, James? I haven't seen one of those little brook fish in years!" James Jr. went to her and leaned against her chair. "I got three in my pool. You may see mine! I'll give you one." "I'd love to see them," said Aunt Margaret. "I'll go bring my hat. But I think you shouldn't give the fish away, James. They belong to God. He made their home in the water. If you take them out, you will kill them, and He won't like that. Let's just look at them, and leave them in the water." "Malcolm, the fish 'belong to God,'" said James, turning to his brother. "We may play with them, but we mustn't take them out of the water and hurt them."