"What has he done now?"
"Done! why he is always doing something absurd. I told him this morning, before I went out, to cut up all the wood in the yard."
"I'm sure he'd do anything you'd tell him," said Mrs. Smithers, in a tone of conciliation; "he's only too anxious to please. I am positive that he has been hard at work all day, for I heard him chopping and sawing."
"Yes," answered Mr. Smithers, "he's chopped and sawed a little too much. Not only did he cut up the wood, but he's pulled down the fences on both sides of the yard, torn up the supports of the grapevine, and even made firewood of the sawbuck."
"He's too full of zeal; in fact, the poor boy wants to do too much," Mrs. Smithers rejoined. "You oughtn't to blame him for that; as he grows older he'll know better."
"I doubt it, ma'am. I doubt it very much," replied her husband, seating himself before the stove.
Mr. Smithers was a tall, consequential man, in the prime of life, dark in complexion and not bad looking.
His wife was a widow when he married her, and she had one son, the Tommy of whom Smithers was now complaining.
Our friend was commonly called "Soft" Tommy, on account of the simplicity of his nature and the numerous mistakes he was constantly making.
His age was thirteen, and he was a pale, delicate-looking boy, with a mild voice and a dreamy eye, fair hair, thin lips and an undecided sort of mouth.