It was morally impossible for Will to sit still in his seat. For once the good little boy was regardless of his parents’ wishes; and in spite of mamma’s entreaties and papa’s commands, he persisted in thrusting his head out of the window.
How fortunate it is that wrong doing inevitably leads to punishment! On this occasion, however, the boy’s punishment was so long delayed that the sanguinary sword of justice seemed to be rusted fast in its sheath. But that sword was drawn at last.
After riding for ten minutes with his head far out of the car, with an involuntary “oh” he abruptly drew it in, but—hatless.
The boy’s gestures of excitement and his parents’ evident vexation attracted every one’s attention. Truly, the parents suffered equally with the child. It is always thus.
“I’d put my present for Henry in it, and now it’s gone!” groaned Will, unmindful of the fact that every one in the car could hear him.
“It serves you right, little boy,” observed a pious but melancholy looking old lady, who occupied an adjacent seat. “Now you’ll have to ride bareheaded,” she muttered. “That’s what comes from disobeying your parents!”
“For shame!” whispered a humane, but characteristically lank, Down-easterner to this meddlesome dame. “Just you let the poor little fellow alone.”
Then, noticing Will’s sad condition, he began to search his pockets. Will saw this and guessed what was coming, for he had often remarked that that movement on the part of those interested in him was usually followed by the bestowal of sweetmeats or other good gifts.
It may here be boldly stated that our hero was not above eating candy, which he divined was what was coming.
Will was not mistaken in this instance, for his humane friend soon approached him and put something round and hard into his hand, saying, “Don’t fret, little man; here’s a bull’s-eye for you.”