“Too many rules,” said Thomas, slowly.
“Aha!” said his father, with a note of triumph in his tone; “so that's it, is it? He will be bringing you to the mark, I warrant you. And indeed it's high time, for I doubt Archie Munro was just a little soft with you.”
The old man's tone was aggravating enough, but his reference to the old master was too much for Hughie, and even Thomas was moved to words more than was his wont in his father's presence.
“He has too many rules,” repeated Thomas, stolidly, “and they will not be kept.”
“And he is as proud as he can be,” continued Hughie. “Comes along with his cane and his stand-up collar, and lifts his hat off to the big girls, and—and—och! he's just as stuck-up as anything!” Hughie's vocabulary was not equal to his contempt.
“There will not be much wrong with his cane in the Twentieth School, I dare say,” went on the old man, grimly. “As for lifting his hat, it is time some of them were learning manners. When I was a boy we were made to mind our manners, I can tell you.”
“So are we!” replied Hughie, hotly; “but we don't go shoween off like that! And then himself and his rules!” Hughie's disgust was quite unutterable.
“Rules!” exclaimed the old man. “Ay, that is what is the trouble.”
“Well,” said Hughie, with a spice of mischief, “if Thomas is late for school he will have to bring a note of excuse.”
“Very good indeed. And why should he be late at all?”