Mr. Gainsborough entered the room and closed the door behind him.
"Thomas," he began in a relentless tone, "you have disgraced yourself and your family by your behavior to-day, but I have decided not to give you a whipping."
Tommy leaped from the bed with an exclamation of puzzled relief.
"Instead, my son, I shall take away all your pencils and drawing materials for a month, and shall see that you do not have access to any at school."
"Oh, father," howled Tommy despairingly, "I'd rather take the whipping—even two of 'em, if you'll give me back my things! Please whip me, father, as you said you would, and let me have my sketch-book!"
"At the end of a month, and not one day sooner."
Mr. Gainsborough kept his word, and throughout the following weeks Tommy's fingers fairly tingled for the touch of his beloved instruments. Pencils and paper were so costly at that time that it was useless for him to save his pennies in the hope of buying them for himself; and during the weary days of waiting, Tommy decided positively that his pen should never again perform dishonest tricks, plunging him into such trouble.
One midsummer morning, weeks after Tommy's pencils had been restored to him, Mrs. Gainsborough appeared at the corner of the garden, where the boy was busily digging worms for fish bait.
"Tommy," she inquired in a vexed tone, "have you been gathering my yellow pears?"