How shall we Train our Mothers?” (R. B. M. Smith).
Soon she led him in, subdued and remorseful, the demon expelled, to the principal.
“Spanked him systematically.”
“He’ll throuble ye no more, Miss, an’ the carvin’ knife is underneath th’ bolster av his bed—the bad ’un that he is!”
“Now that Philip is good again—and you see how quiet he was out in the hall; I told you he was thinking very hard—we’ll all sing a song to show how glad we are, and he shall choose it. What would Philip like to sing?”
Philip murmured huskily that his heart was God’s little garden, and there was more joy over him than over the two dozen that needed no repentance.
But the youngest assistant avoided Mrs. R. B. M. Smith’s eye, for she had opened the cellar door!
“Murmured huskily that his heart was God’s little garden.”