“Thank you,” she said.  “O Max, I wish you could eat them yourself!” Her eyes were full of tears.

“I’d rather you’d have ’em; you and Gracie,” he said cheerfully.  “Good-by.”

“Good-by,” she returned, looking after him as he hurried away, whistling as he went.

“He’s whistling to keep his courage up.  O Max! poor Max!  I wish I could give that man the worst kind of a flogging!” Lulu sighed to herself, then turned and went into the house.

She heard Mrs. Scrimp’s voice in the kitchen scolding Ann for letting the bread burn in the oven.  It was an inauspicious moment to appear before her, but Lulu marched boldly in, holding up her string of fish.

“See, Aunt Beulah! they’re just fresh out of the water, and won’t they make us a nice dinner?”

“And they’re your favorite fish, ma’am, them pretty speckled trout is,” put in Ann, glad to make a diversion in her own favor, as well as to help Lulu out of a scrape; “and I’ll go right to work to clean ’em and have ’em ready for the frying-pan in less than no time.”

“Yes, they’ll be very nice; and the meat will keep for to-morrow,” was the gracious rejoinder.  “You oughtn’t to have gone off without leave, Lulu; but I suppose Max couldn’t wait.”

“No, Aunt Beulah, he said he couldn’t stay more than a minute.  Shall I help Ann clean the fish?”

“No; go and make yourself tidy.  Your hands are dirty, your apron soiled, and your hair looks as if it hadn’t been combed for a week.”

Mrs. Scrimp’s face was gathering blackness as she scanned the figure of the young delinquent from head to foot, spying out all that was amiss with it.

“I will,” said Lulu, moving toward the door with cheerful alacrity.  “Oh, I forgot!” and rushing into the hall, she came back the next minute bringing her basket of treasures.

“See, Aunt Beulah, I’ve brought you lots of lovely leaves; you know you said you wanted some to make a wreath; and here are mosses, and grapes, and hazel-nuts.”

“Why you have made good use of your time,” Mrs. Scrimp said, now entirely mollified.  “Bring your basket into the sitting-room, where Gracie is; and we’ll look over its contents.”

Max was less fortunate to-day than his sister.  His custodian was on the look-out for him, cowhide in hand, and seizing him roughly, as he entered the gate, with a fierce, “I’ll teach you to disobey orders another time, you young vagabond!  I told you to come home at noon, and you’re over two hours behind time!” began to administer an unmerciful flogging.

“Stop!” cried Max, trying to dodge the blows.  “How could I tell the time?  I came as soon as I thought it was noon.”

But his tormentor was in a towering passion and would not stay his hand to listen to any excuse.

“Do you mean to kill me?” screamed Max.  “You’ll hang for it if you do.  And my father——­”

“Your father believes in enforcing obedience to orders, sir; and I’ll——­”