“Your father waited more than half an hour after the usual time of your return from school, my son. He could not wait longer, as it would have made it too late for him to attend to his business. Why did you not come home sooner?”
“I could not, mother. I was kept after school because I did not know my lessons,” answered Frank, sadly.
“And why did you not know them, Frank? Were you idle?”
“No, mother, I was not idle; I really tried to learn them, but somehow they would not stay in my mind. I think it was all because I did not know my first lesson this morning; and that made me feel so sorry and ashamed that I could not get the next one; and then I was sorry again, and could not get the third; and so on. One lesson knocked the other down,” continued Frank, smiling a little, “just as one card-house knocks the other, when I build the row of tents.”
His mother smiled also at this comparison, for she was glad to have Frank feel cheerful again.
“And why did you not know your first lesson?” she asked. “We must find out what gave the first blow to your tents; for, if we know the cause of the evil, we can perhaps find a remedy for the future.”
“The first lesson is in mental arithmetic, mother, and the boys are expected to learn it at home. I got up too late to study it this morning; and so, of course, I did not know it.”
“But yesterday afternoon was the time to study it, Frank. An hour before tea is the rule. Your school closes at three, and this leaves you time for a good play until half-past five; then you should study till half-past six.”
“But I went to the woods for nuts, mother. I wish father had not given me leave to go.”
“Your father likes to leave you in freedom sometimes,” replied his mother. “He wishes you to observe and feel the consequences of your own actions.”