the old man's most beautiful handwriting to the effect that Master Westcott
had made no progress at all in his sums during the last fortnight, had
indeed made no attempt at progress, and had given William Daffoll, the
rector's son, a bleeding nose last Wednesday when he ought to have been
adding, dividing, and subtracting. Old Parlow had shown him the letter so
that Peter knew that there was no escape, unless indeed Peter destroyed the
paper, and that only meant that punishment was deferred.

Yes, it meant a beating, and Peter had hung about the town and the shore
all the afternoon and evening because he was afraid. This fact of his fear
puzzled him and he had often considered the matter. He was not, in any
other way, a coward, and he had done, on many occasions, things that other
friends of his own age had hung back from, but the thought of his father
made him quite sick with fear somewhere in the middle of his stomach. He
considered the matter very carefully and he decided at last (and he was
very young for so terrible a discovery) that it was because his father
liked beating him that he was afraid. He knew that his father liked it
because he had watched his mouth and had heard the noise that came through
his lips. And this, again, was rather strange because his father did not
look as though he would like it; he had a cold face like a stone and was
always in black clothes, but he did not, as a rule, show that he was
pleased or angry or sorry--he never showed things.

Now these words of Frosted Moses explained everything. It was because his
father knew that it was Courage that mattered that he liked to beat Peter
... it was good for Peter to learn Courage.

"'Tisn't life that matters" ... it isn't a beating that matters....

Frosted Moses was a great deal wiser than old Simon Parlow, who, in spite