Tommy was so staggered by this last speech that he nearly tumbled
down the bank, but saved himself, and hung onto the window
ledge, staring in with eyes as round as the stuffed owl's on the
chimney-piece.

Nat took the rule, for when Mr. Bhaer spoke in that tone everyone
obeyed him, and, looking as scared and guilty as if about to stab
his master, he gave two feeble blows on the broad hand held out to
him. Then he stopped and looked up half-blind with tears, but Mr.
Bhaer said steadily:

"Go on, and strike harder."

As if seeing that it must be done, and eager to have the hard task
soon over, Nat drew his sleeve across his eyes and gave two more
quick hard strokes that reddened the hand, yet hurt the giver more.

"Isn't that enough?" he asked in a breathless sort of tone.

"Two more," was all the answer, and he gave them, hardly seeing
where they fell, then threw the rule all across the room, and
hugging the kind hand in both his own, laid his face down on it
sobbing out in a passion of love, and shame, and penitence:

"I will remember! Oh! I will!"

Then Mr. Bhaer put an arm about him, and said in a tone as
compassionate as it had just now been firm:

"I think you will. Ask the dear God to help you, and try to spare us