"You were a girl," explained Jack.
"My brothers never did such things, either," said Mrs. Wittingham.
"I guess they didn't run and tell you every time they did anything," the boy suggested.
"They had nothing to tell," said Mrs. Wittingham. And she told the truth; her brothers had lacked the vitality necessary to persistent mischief-making and had always been considered good boys, though their manliness after they reached adult years was strictly of a negative nature, and they had invariably failed in business and everything else they undertook, barring the one who had used slyness as a substitute for strength, and decamped for parts unknown with the funds of a corporation of which he had been cashier. But Jack could devise no retort to his mother's last remark, so he moodily took a slice of bread, and the lady departed, contemplating her son with a look far more loving than she ever indulged in when the boy's eyes were upon her.
Jack ate his dinner with considerable gusto, complaining to himself only of insufficient quality. As he lifted the last slice from the plate he discovered a bit of paper under it, upon which was pencilled the Scriptural saying, "The wicked shall not live out half their days," and Jack considered this line the most unsatisfactory dessert that had ever been placed before him. He admitted the truth of all Scripture, however, and he meekly hoped that he might live long enough to earn money to make the payment for that burned stable—this he could surely do, if the wicked were allowed a full half of three score and ten years.
A sudden whistle under the window banished every thought, pleasant and unpleasant, except of nice little Mattie Barker, and though from where Jack sat to the window measured only three or four steps of distance, Jack felt that he consumed at least an hour in traversing it. Finally he looked down, and Matt looked up and whispered:
"It's all right."
"Glory!" whispered Jack.
"The glass alley went right to the spot," continued Matt, "for she said she'd wanted that sleigh-line for months, but Billy had been too stingy for anything."
"What did she say—about me, I mean," whispered Jack.