impatiently. "He'll find out sooner or later if you disregard it, and
then he'll be furious."

"So he will anyhow," muttered Granny.

"Mamma!" protested the mother. "It's for the boy's own good. He should
only eat hard bread except on Sundays and when we have company. It is
much better for his teeth. And it makes him stronger too. You want to be
big and strong, don't you Keith?"

"It's a wonder his father lets him have anything at all to eat," Granny
put in before Keith had a chance to answer.

"You must not talk like that, mamma," said the mother sharply. "Least of
all when the boy hears it." Then she turned to Keith again: "Don't you
believe what Granny says. Your father is merely thinking of what is
good for you. He loves you just as much as I do--or your grandmother.
But he thinks we are spoiling you. And he wants you to grow up and be a
real man. That's why he hates to see you cry."

There was a pause while Keith pondered the matter--not seriously
concerned on the whole, as long as the tidbit was not taken away
from him.

"Don't you love your father," his mother asked suddenly.

"Ye-es," Keith answered mechanically.

Then he began to ponder again. His feelings toward his father were far
too complicated for utterance. They seemed to have nothing whatsoever to