“Ye–es,” said Uncle Bob.
“Well, my dear sir, when you get summonses out against boys—a practice to which I have a very great objection—it is the parents who suffer more than their offspring.”
“And serve them right, sir, for bringing their boys up so badly.”
“Yes, I suppose so; but boys will be boys,” said Mr Tomplin.
“I don’t mind their being boys,” said Uncle Bob angrily; “what I do object to is their being young savages. Why, sir, they half-killed my nephew.”
“But he has escaped, my dear sir, and, as I understand it, the mother has threatened to—er—er—leather the boys well, that was, I think, her term—”
“Yes,” I said, rather gleefully, “leather them.”
“And judging from the description I have heard of this Amazon-like lady, who makes her husband obey her like a sheep, the young gentlemen’s skins will undergo rather a severe tanning process. Now, don’t you think you had better let the matter stand as it is? And, speaking on the lex talionis principle, our young friend Jacob here ought to be able to handle his fists, and on the first occasion when he met one of his enemies he might perhaps give him a thrashing. I don’t advise it, for it is illegal, but he might perhaps by accident. It would have a good effect.”
“But you are always for letting things drop, Mr Tomplin,” said Uncle Bob peevishly.
“Yes; I don’t like my friends to go to law—or appeal to the law, as one may say. I am a lawyer, and I lose by giving such advice, I know.”