“See what Charlie has done, Uncle!” exclaimed Jessie, sobbing. “I wouldn’t care if it wasn’t poor Aunt Lucy’s present that he has broken.”
Aunt Lucy was dead. She had given this charming little tea-set to Jessie only a few weeks before her death.
“How did he do it?” asked Mr. Morris.
“He kicked the table over, Sir, because we wanted him to let Jessie sit in her place, and pour out the tea,” said Carrie.
Just then Mrs. Carlton, and Mary the waiting-maid, both of whom had heard the noise, entered the parlor. Turning to the latter, Mr. Morris said:
“Mary, put that ugly boy to bed!”
Charlie, frightened at Mr. Morris’s manner, yielded to this command without a word, and was led out of the room.
“I didn’t know that so much ugliness could be got into so small a parcel before that boy came here. He goes home to-morrow morning, however, and we shall all witness his departure, I guess, with very dry eyes,” said Mr. Morris.
“He needs somebody to weep over him, though, brother,” interposed Mrs. Carlton, “for otherwise he will grow up into a very wicked and dangerous manhood.”
“Very true, sister. He is a spoiled child. I must write to sister Hannah about him. If rigid training, and the rod of correction, be not soon applied to him, he will become a spoiled man.”