“I don’t mind. Nurse says you have no business to punish me! She did not put me to bed; and I had such fun! Oh, such fun!” and the boy looked up with a grin that set all the others laughing. Christabel resolutely kept silence, and hoped her looks did not show her annoyance, as the boy went on, “I got lots of goodies, for Nurse said she had no notion of no stranger punishing her children. Oh! Oh! Oh!” For Samuel had hold of his ear, and was tweaking it sharply. “There! Go and tell Nurse, if you like, baby!” “Sam, indeed I can’t have my battles fought in that way!” cried the governess, much distressed, as Johnnie roared, perhaps that old Nurse might hear, and, to all attempts to find out whether he were hurt, offered only heels and fists, till Susan came back and hugged him into quiet. “Now Johnnie has cried before breakfast on a Monday morning,” said Annie, “all the rest of the week will go wrong with him.” “Indeed,” said Miss Fosbrook, “I hope no such thing.—Suppose we try and show Annie she is wrong, Johnnie!” But Johnnie was sulky, and even Susan looked as if she thought this a new and dangerous notion. Sam laughed, and said, “I wish you joy, Miss Fosbrook. Now he’ll think he must be naughty.” “Johnnie,” said David solemnly, “the pig.” The pig was a very good master of the ceremonies, and kept all elbows off the table at breakfast-time; and Bessie, who was apt to stick fast in the midst of her bread and milk, and fall into disgrace for daintiness and dawdling, finished off quietly and prosperously. Then every one was turned loose till nine o’clock. Susan had charge of Mamma’s keys, and had to go down to the kitchen, see what the cook wanted, and put it out, but only on condition that no brother or sister ever went with her to the store-closet. Susan was highly trustworthy, but Mamma was too wise to let her be tempted by voices begging for one plum, one almond, or the last spoonful of Jam. It took away a great deal of the pleasure of jingling the keys, and having a voice in choosing the pudding. The two elder boys went to their tutor, the other children to the nursery, except Elizabeth, who was rummaging in her little box, and David, whom Miss Fosbrook found perched on the ledge of the window, reading a book that did not look as if it were meant for men of his size. But Miss Fosbrook thought David like the oldest person in the house—infinitely older than John, who could do nothing better than he except running and bawling, and a good deal older than even Hal and Sam. Nay, there were times when he raised his steady eyes and slowly spoke out his thoughts, when she felt as if he were much more wise and serious than her twenty-years old self. “Well, Davy,” she asked, as at the sound of the lesson-bell the little old man uncrossed his sturdy legs, closed his book, and arose with a sigh, “have you found out all about it?” “I have found out why a pig is a profitable investment,” he answered gravely. “And why?”