"No, I havn't," answered Zack, resolutely.

"Then come to the table with me: your papa's waiting to hear you. Come
here and learn your lesson directly," said Mrs. Thorpe, leading the way
to the table.

"I won't!" rejoined Zack, emphasizing the refusal by laying tight hold
of the wet sides of the bath with both hands.

It was lucky for this rebel of six years old that he addressed those
two words to his mother only. If his nurse had heard them, she would
instantly have employed that old-established resource in all
educational difficulties, familiarly known to persons of her condition
under the appellation of "a smack on the head;" if Mr. Thorpe had heard
them, the boy would have been sternly torn away, bound to the back of a
chair, and placed ignominiously with his chin against the table; if Mr.
Goodworth had heard them, the probability is that he would instantly
have lost his temper, and soused his grandson head over ears in the
bath. Not one of these ideas occurred to Mrs. Thorpe, who possessed no
ideas. But she had certain substitutes which were infinitely more
useful in the present emergency: she had instincts.

"Look up at me, Zack," she said, returning to the bath, and sitting in
the chair by its side; "I want to say something to you."

The boy obeyed directly. His mother opened her lips, stopped suddenly,
said a few words, stopped again, hesitated--and then ended her first
sentence of admonition in the most ridiculous manner, by snatching at
the nearest towel, and bearing Zack off to the wash-hand basin.