A step drew near, and Mr. Dinsmore's voice spoke close at hand in tones
sterner and more peremptory than he really meant them to be.

"Edward, get up from that damp grass and come into the house
immediately. Do you intend to add to your poor mother's troubles by
your disobedience, and by making yourself sick?"

The child arose instantly. He was accustomed to yield to his
grandfather's authority quite as readily as to that of his parents.

"O grandpa, please don't be hard to him! His heart's almost broken, and
he wouldn't have hurt papa on purpose for all the world," pleaded little
Elsie, hastening to Mr. Dinsmore's side, taking his hand in both hers,
and lifting her tear-dimmed eyes beseechingly to his face.

"Yes, grandpa ought," sobbed Eddie, "I've been such a wicked, wicked
boy, I deserve the dreadfulest whipping that ever was. And papa can't do
it now!" he cried with a fresh burst of grief and remorse, "and mamma
won't like to. Grandpa, it'll have to be you. Please do it quick, 'cause
I want it over."

"And has all this distress been for fear of punishment?" asked Mr.
Dinsmore, taking the child's hand, and bending down to look searchingly
into his face.

"Oh no, no, no, grandpa! I'd rather be whipped any day than to know
I've hurt my dear papa so. Grandpa, won't you do it quick?"

"No, my son, I am not fond of such business and shall not punish you
unless requested to do so by your father or mother. The doctor hopes