"Nahum brought the whip down with a swish on Philip's legs."—[Page 285.]
Mark Mason's Victory.
"That's too thin! You didn't want to go for the whisky in the first place. You said your papa," with a mocking sneer, "didn't like to have you go to a saloon."
"That's true, but I went."
"Because you had to. You are lazy and put on airs, just as if you wasn't a beggar dependent on me for the bread you eat and the clothes you wear."
"My father bought me these clothes," said Philip.
"Suppose he did? When you have worn them out you'll expect me to buy you some more."
"What are you waiting for, pa?" asked Oscar impatiently. "If you're going to lick him, why don't you do it?"
"I'm going to," said Nahum, and, raising the whip he brought it down with a swish around the legs of the poor boy.
Philip cried with pain, dancing up and down, and Oscar went into a fit of laughter at what he thought an amusing spectacle.