"Go and do what I tell you. Get your hat and jacket."
The boy moved slowly and with a very reluctant air from the room.
"Now, don't be all day," Mr. Belknap called after him, "I'm in a hurry. Move briskly."
How powerless the father's words died upon the air. The motions of John Thomas were not quickened in the slightest degree. Like a soulless automaton passed he out into the passage and up the stairs; while the impatient Mr. Belknap could with difficulty restrain an impulse to follow after, and hasten the sulky boy's movements with blows. He controlled himself, however, and resumed the perusal of his newspaper. Five, ten minutes passed, and John Thomas had not yet appeared to do the errand upon which his father designed to send him. Suddenly Mr. Belknap dropped his paper, and going hastily to the bottom of the stairs, called out:
"You John! John Thomas!"
"Sir!" came a provokingly indifferent voice from one of the chambers.
"Did n't I tell you to hurry—say?"
"I can't find my jacket."
"You don't want to find it. Where did you lay it when you took it off last night?"
"I don't know. I forget."