"Ten miles," said his mother. "I will take you in a carriage on an
excursion anywhere you say, for ten miles, if you will find out some way to
cure yourself of this fault."

"I think you ought to punish me," said Egbert, speaking in rather a timid
tone.

"That's just it," said his mother, "It is for you to think of some kind of
punishment that won't be too disagreeable for me to inflict, and which will
yet be successful in curing you of the fault. I will allow you a fortnight
to get cured. If you are not cured in a fortnight I shall think the
punishment is not enough, or that it is not of a good kind; but if it works
so well as to cure you in a fortnight, then you shall have the ride."

Egbert wished to know whether he must think of the punishment himself, or
whether his sister Mary might help him. His mother gave him leave to
ask any body to help him that he pleased. Mary, after some reflection,
recommended that, whenever he was not dressed in time, he was to have only
one lump of sugar, instead of four, in his tumbler of water for breakfast.

His usual drink at breakfast was a tumbler of water, with four lumps of
sugar in it. The first bell was rung at half-past six, and breakfast was
at half-past seven. His sister recommended that, as half an hour was ample
time for the work of dressing, Egbert should go down every morning and
report himself ready before the clock struck seven. If he failed of this,
he was to have only one lump of sugar, instead of four, in his glass of
water.

There was some question about the necessity of requiring him to be ready