"What! His--_mother_ knows it?"

"His father knows it perfectly well," said Dr. Lavendar smiling.

Mr. Wright got up again, his fingers twitching with impatience.
"Lavendar," he began--another bird trilled, and snarling with
annoyance, he pulled the blue apron from the first cage and threw it
over the second. "These creatures drive me distracted! ... Lavendar,
to get Sam out of Old Chester, I might almost consent to see his--
_mother_, if there was no other way to accomplish it."

At that Dr. Lavendar stopped smiling. "Benjamin," he said solemnly,
"if any foolishness on the part of the boy brings you to such wisdom,
the hand of the Lord will be in it!"

"I don't want to see--his relations!" cried Benjamin Wright; "but
Sam's got to get away from this place for a while, and if you won't
persuade his--_mother_ to allow it, why I might be driven to
seeing--her. But why shouldn't he try to get his truck published?"

Dr. Lavendar was very much moved. "If you'll only see your son," he
said, "this other business will straighten itself out somehow. But--"
he paused; "getting Sam's play published isn't a very good excuse for
seeing him. I'd rather have him think you were worried because the boy
had an attack of calf-love. No; I wouldn't want you to talk about
theatrical things," Dr. Lavendar ended thoughtfully.

"Why not?"

"Well, the fact is, Samuel has no sympathy with dramas or playhouses.