“Never mind, my son,” he said, putting his right hand kindly on Dan’s shoulder. “This time it was more my fault than yours. I made you nervous by my criticism.” The idea of Dan’s being nervous was an exquisite compliment from its perfect novelty. The doctor saw that the boy for once was greatly ashamed, and so he immediately changed the subject to Leila, who sat in her high chair on Dan’s right. “So Miss Mischief,” he said, “you set out to cook a kitten in the hominy this morning did you, eh? I’m very glad you failed, and I advise you to not try it again.” “I sall took ee titten to-maw-yer, I sall.” “You will cook the kitten to-morrow, will you?” he said, repressing a disposition to laugh. “Look here, Leila, if you try that again I hope you’ll get a much larger dose of Dinah’s slipper, and you shall not have a kiss from papa, nor come to the table with him for a whole week.” “Poor kitty! her toes ache so,” said Linnie, who spoke quite plainly compared with her sister, and whose heart also was more tender. The doctor praised Linnie’s sympathy with the kitten, and while reading Leila a little lecture on cruelty, the bell rang, and he was called off to see a patient. During the day Mrs. Forest consulted Clara on the subject of the afternoon tea, for she was sorely perplexed and mortified, as she said, because there was nothing in the house. “Why, mamma, I don’t see why you should bother yourself. We have nice, fresh, Graham bread, some delicious cheese, any quantity of fruit, and Dinah can make some hominy. Mrs. Buzzell don’t ever taste hominy, and she’ll be delighted with it, I know. Papa would find such food excellent; and I am sure what is good enough for papa is good enough for anybody in this world.” “Yes, my child, it is _good_ enough, no doubt; but it is such an odd jumble. Who ever heard of such a tea? You know Mrs. Buzzell’s appetite is fastidious, and I like to have something savory for her. Of course the doctor’s credit is good at the grocer’s, and everywhere, for that matter, but I have never used it, and never intended to; but I think I shall have to make an exception to-day. We _must_ have some butter and some sugar.” “Now, mamma, you know Mrs. Buzzell is always complaining about her digestion. On principle, you should never give her anything but simple food—just like this tea we are going to have; and I wouldn’t put the cheese on the table either. It may destroy the effect of papa’s medicines,” added Clara, laughing.