he bought it; he would manage to replace the dollar abstracted from the
reserve fund.

If he gave absent answers during the meal Clytie seemed to be
preoccupied also. Little Mary, who sat by him, tucked her hand into his
as she prattled.

"Now, George!" said his mother at last suddenly when the rice pudding
had been finished. George rose, clean and red-cheeked, looking more than
ever like a large edition of Baby, in spite of his jacket and
knickerbockers, as he stepped over to his father with a new dignity and
handed him a folded sheet of paper.

"What's this?" asked Langshaw genially opening it. He read aloud the
words within, written laboriously in a round, boyish hand:

To George Brander Langshaw, from father.
You Oh me five dolars.

Reseived paiment.

"Hello! Hello! What does this mean?" asked Langshaw slowly, with an
unpleasant startled sensation that any such sum in connection with
George was out of all reason.

"It means a bill for you from me!" announced George. His cheeks grew
redder, his blue eyes looked squarely at his father. "It's for this!" He
pulled from his pocket a school report card divided into tiny ruled
squares, filled with figures for half its length, and flung it down
proudly on the table before his parent.