She was of a sour, snappy disposition. Her prim boast and pride was that
she was a strict disciplinarian.

To a lad of Andy's free and easy nature, her rules and regulations were
torture and an abomination.

She made him take off his muddy shoes in the woodshed. Woe to him if he
ever brought a splinter of whittling, or a fragment of nutshell, into
the distressingly neat kitchen!

Only one day in the week--Sunday--was Andy allowed the honor of sitting
in the best room.

Then, for six mortal hours his aching limbs were glued to a
straight-backed chair. There, in parlor state, he sat listening to the
prim old maid's reading religious works, or some scientific lecture, or
a dreary dissertation on good behavior.

She never allowed a schoolmate to visit him, even in the well-kept yard.
She restricted his hours of play. And all the time never gave him a
loving word or caress.

On the contrary, many times a week Miss Lavinia administered a
tongue-lashing that suggested perpetual motion.

Mr. Wildwood had been something of an inventor. He had gotten up a
hoisting derrick that was very clever. It brought him some money. This
he sunk in an impossible balloon, crippled himself in the initial voyage
of his airship, and died shortly afterwards of a broken heart.