“I don’t know about telling his father. You gave him one whipping––”
“And a good hard one. I’m afraid of boys getting so used to that mode of punishment that they don’t mind it. But father brought up four boys in that manner and they have all made nice men. I don’t see where Jack gets his badness from.”
Jack’s mother sighed. “And yet he can be so lovely.”
“I’ve been considering,” rejoined Florence. 44 “Suppose we hold this over his head for a while. I might talk to him.”
“Well, we can try it.”
So Aunt Florence talked to him very seriously, and said if he wasn’t a better boy they would have to send him off somewhere in the country where there were no children. She would not tell his father just now, but if he ever struck or pinched the babies again she certainly would, and he would be punished twice over. He must remember that.
He put his arms around her neck, and kissed her. “I’m awful sorry. I didn’t think it hurt so,” he said naively.
“Papa will hurt you a great deal more than I did,” was her reply.
And then Jack had a sudden accession of goodness. His teacher was proud of him. How much was due to his pretty face and winsome manner, one couldn’t quite tell, but the nursery had a lovely rest and Marilla didn’t have to watch out every moment.
Mrs. Borden secretly wished the twins were prettier. They were too fat, and when she tried to diet them a little they made a terrible protest. Here they were fourteen 45 months old and couldn’t walk yet, but they were beginning to say little words under their nurse’s steady training.