"I taught Tess Skinner a lesson today I don't believe she'll forget," he burst forth savagely.
The doll dropped from Helen's hands, its head striking sharply against the arm of her chair.
"What do you mean?" she gasped.
"You needn't get that expression on your face, my lady—"
"Oh, Ebenezer!" interjected Helen, drearily. "What makes you act so? One would think you spent your whole time trying to get even with somebody."
"I got even with my lady Skinner," smiled Waldstricker. "I gave her brat a whipping." The words came slowly, and the man watched their effect.
Helen was not able to sense the full meaning of his statement at first. Mechanically, she rescued the doll and laid it on the table. Beginning to see the picture he'd suggested, she opened her mouth, closed it again and at the next attempt spoke.
"Why, Ebenezer, Tessibel's baby is only a month or so older than Elsie!"
"Well, what of it! He's an impudent little whelp. Takes after his mother, I suppose."
"But you don't really mean you whipped him!" Helen exclaimed, still incredulous.