easier than he anticipated. Indeed, so little did he think of his
father's command, that he felt in no hurry to obey it. Instead of
going to bed, he sat awhile at the window, listening to the music of a
flute which some one in the neighborhood was playing upon. Presently
Ralph and George, who slept in the same chamber with him, came up to
keep him company. They amused themselves together for some time, and
Oscar quite forgot that he had been sent to bed, until the door
suddenly opened, and his father, whose attention had been attracted by
the noise, stood before him.

"Did n't I tell you to go to bed an hour ago, Oscar?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir."

"Why have n't you obeyed me, then?"

"Because," said Oscar, "I 've got a lesson to get to-night, and I have
n't studied it yet."

"If you 've got a lesson to learn, where is your book?" inquired his
father.

"It 's down stairs; I was afraid to go after it, and so I was trying to
coax Ralph to get it for me."

"O, what a story!" cried George; "why, father, he has n't said one word
about his book."

This was true. Oscar, in his extremity, had hastily framed a
falsehood, trusting that his assurance would enable him to carry it