and exhibited his appreciation of them by again beginning to wriggle
his shoulders in and out of his frock. He had evidently had more than
enough already of the "Pilgrim's Progress" and the "Life of Moses."

Mr. Thorpe said nothing more, and returned to his reading. Mr.
Goodworth put his hands in his pockets, yawned disconsolately, and
looked, with a languidly satirical expression in his eyes, to see what
his grandson would do next. If the thought passing through the old
gentleman's mind at that moment had been put into words, it would have
been exactly expressed in the following sentence:--"You miserable
little boy! When I was your age, how I should have kicked at all this!"

Zack was not long in finding a new resource. He spied Mr. Goodworth's
cane standing in a corner; and, instantly getting astride of it,
prepared to amuse himself with a little imaginary horse-exercise up and
down the room. He had just started at a gentle canter, when his father
called out, "Zachary!" and brought the boy to a stand-still directly.

"Put back the stick where you took it from," said Mr. Thorpe; "you
mustn't do that on Sunday. If you want to move about, you can walk up
and down the room."

Zack paused, debating for an instant whether he should disobey or burst
out crying.

"Put back the stick," repeated Mr. Thorpe.

Zack remembered the dressing-room and the "Select Bible Texts for
Children," and wisely obeyed. He was by this time completely crushed
down into as rigid a state of Sunday discipline as his father could