Mamma shook her head. "Play as much as you please to-day," she answered pleasantly. "After that, you can decide for yourself whether to linger over your books for six hours or apply yourself vigorously for three."
"Hasn't he outgrown that habit of dawdling over his lessons?" asked grandpa, looking at the boy with an arch smile that brought the blushes to his cheek.
"He'll answer for himself to-morrow," replied the lady.
About four o'clock in the afternoon, Mrs. Seyton put on her bonnet again, to go to Mr. Maynard's cottage, when Maurice ran in, his apron full of eggs.
"Oh, grandma, see what I've found," he cried, "while I was feeding the fowls. There was a cross old hen setting on 'em, and I had to take a stick and whip her before she'd get off."
"Why, Maurice Seyton, you've spoiled a whole brood of chickens! They'd have been out of the shell in two or three days. It's a terrible pity you touched 'em."
Maurice feeding Grandma's Fowls.
Grandpa then explained to him the danger of disturbing the mother hen when she was hatching her young; and he was so much disappointed that he began to cry.
"I never will drive off another hen," he said, winking back his tears. "I do love little mites of chickens, dearly."