“And so we never strike a little child, Joseph, and you must never talk about it. His mother and Miss Ethel are going to _talk_ with little Philip, and try to make him see——” Philip ducked under his mother’s arm and almost gained the door. The youngest assistant caught him by his apron-string and towed him back. His mother looked around hastily, noticed a small door half open, and caught the youngest assistant’s eye. “Cellar?” she inquired. The youngest assistant nodded, and as his mother lifted Philip bodily and made for the little door, it was opened for her and closed after her by the only other person in the hall. His mother carried Philip to the coal-heap, and upon it she sat and spanked her son—spanked him systematically, and after an ancient method upon which civilization has been able to make few if any improvements. She had never read that excellent work, “Child Culture, or [Illustration: “_It was opened for her and closed after her._”] How shall we Train our Mothers?” (R. B. M. Smith). Soon she led him in, subdued and remorseful, the demon expelled, to the principal. [Illustration: “_Spanked him systematically._”] “He’ll throuble ye no more, Miss, an’ the carvin’ knife is underneath th’ bolster av his bed—the bad ’un that he is!” “Now that Philip is good again—and you see how quiet he was out in the hall; I told you he was thinking very hard—we’ll all sing a song to show how glad we are, and he shall choose it. What would Philip like to sing?” Philip murmured huskily that his heart was God’s little garden, and there was more joy over him than over the two dozen that needed no repentance. But the youngest assistant avoided Mrs. R. B. M. Smith’s eye, for _she_ had opened the cellar door! [Illustration: “_Murmured huskily that his heart was God’s little garden._”] A STUDY IN PIRACY It might not have occurred to you to find the Head Captain terrible to look upon, had you seen him first without his uniform. There seems to be something essentially pacific in the effect of a broad turn-over gingham collar, a blue neck-ribbon, and a wide straw hat; and you might be pardoned for thinking him a rather mild person. But could you have encountered him in a black cambric mask with pinked edges, a broad sash of Turkey red wound tightly about his waist, and that wide collar _turned up_ above his ears—the tie conspicuous for its absence—you might have sung another tune. His appearance was at such a time nothing short of menacing.