“You must be gittin’ up, if you’re goin’ t’ ketch your train,” she said.
“All right; I’ll be down in a minute,” and he sprang out of bed and into his clothes in a jiffy.
Mary had his supper smoking hot on the table, and Mamie, who had just come home from school, sat down with him to keep him company.
“I don’t like your new position very well, Allan,” she said, as she poured out his coffee for him.
“Why not?” he asked, smiling down into the serious little freckled face.
“Why, you’re going to be away from home every evening,” she explained. “Who’s going to help me get my lessons, I’d like to know?”
Allan laughed outright.
“So that’s it? Well, we’ll have to make some arrangement about it. Maybe in the morning, as soon as I get in—”
“You’ll do no such thing,” broke in Mrs. Welsh, sharply. "When you git home in th’ mornin’ you’re goin’ straight t’ bed, jest as soon as you git your breakfast. Mamie kin git her own lessons. It’ll do her good. You’re fair spoilin’ th’ child."
“I’ll tell you,” said Allan, “I’ll get up half an hour earlier in the afternoon. There’s no sense in my sleeping so long, anyway. It’ll make me stupid. You hurry straight home from school, and we’ll have plenty of time.”