"Peter had to spend an hour looking for them, this morning. This is the second time in a week." The boy became voluble. "The other time, father, you know I told you----" "Yes, you told me. You're always telling me. Did you take that scythe down to be sharpened yesterday?" "I meant to--I'll take it this afternoon, sure." "You'll take it before you go to school this morning." "Father,--if I'm tardy,----" "You can explain to Professor Gloster you made yourself late." The boy's lip pouted; a whimper trembled behind it. "Twice this week you've failed to hoe the spring garden. Do you know who watered your chickens last night?" Pelham was silent. The list was growing too large to explain away, apt as he had become in excuses. "I had a talk with your mother yesterday." The father sat on the edge of his bed, his eyes down, thumping a yard-stick against his left thumb. So it was going to be the yard-stick! That wouldn't hurt,--not like the belt, or a hickory switch, anyway. Pelham began to frame his voice for the proper mingling of crying and entreaty. The more you seemed to be hurt, the less you got. Only, you had to take the first two or three quietly, or father would see through you. The elder walked over to the bureau, and placed the measure beside the rose-shears and the spraying can. No, it was not going to be the yard-stick. The boy looked furtively around; there was no other weapon in sight. Paul continued, "Your conduct bothers your mother as much as it does me. We don't know what to do with you. You're almost ten now ... old enough to be trusted. You know you can't be. Your mother thinks I ought to give you another chance. I promised her I would." His tones grew crisper, more biting. "I know what's the matter with you. You're dog mean. You think you can impose on me. I know it. And I'll have no more of this slovenly work-dodging around my place." He had worked himself into a rage, by this time; but his tones were icily cold and correct. "This confounded laziness has got to stop. It's your job to stop it, do you hear? And if you don't do it within a week,--you know I mean what I say,--I'll thrash you every morning, until you do!" He rose menacingly. Pelham shrank from him. "I'm not going to touch you,--this morning. I promised your mother I wouldn't. But this is a last warning."