"The Sergeant-at-Arms of the House is very fond of you," suggested Barry.
"He must be," replied Joe, "he scolds me so much."
Barry had been in Washington three weeks, when he came home one evening about eleven o'clock and found Mrs. Johnson, his landlady, in tears. He was very much exercised at this unexpected sight. It was as though he had found his own mother crying.
"Why, what's the matter?" he asked.
"It is all about Joe Hart," she said, lifting a corner of her apron and furtively wiping away the tears.
"Why, what about him, Mrs. Johnson?"
"Well, you know he is like yourself: he is like a son to me. His mother placed him in my charge, and in a measure I am responsible for his conduct. Now, you know it would break her heart if he would go wrong or get into bad habits."
"Oh, he's all right, Mrs. Johnson."
"I wish I could feel so sure," she said. "I've been anxious about that boy for a long while. He is getting careless. He is spending all of his money and he stays out late at night."