The young man’s face brightened, and he engulfed several spoonfuls of the evening meal before he replied,—­

“Well, I guess I am somebody now’days.  The time you was in jail, I thought the family had a mighty slim chance o’ countin’; but I tumbled into base-ball, an’ I was pretty strong in my arms an’ pretty spry on my feet, an’ little by little I kind o’ came to give the family a standin’.”

“I s’pose that’s all right,” said the father; “but I want you to understan’ one thing, an’ understan’ it so plain that you can’t ever make any mistake about it afterwards.  When I put any money into your hands to be used for anythin’, it don’t matter what, you must spend it for that, or you must get an awful thrashin’ when you come back home again.  Do you understan’ me?”

The feeding motions of the eldest male of the Kimper collection of children stopped for an instant, and Master Tom leered at his father as he said,—­

“Who’s goin’ to give the thrashin’?”

“I am, Tom,—­your father is,—­an’ don’t make any mistake about it.  He’ll do it good an’ brown, too, if he’s to die used up right away afterwards.  This family is goin’ to be decent from this time on; there ain’t to be no more thieves in it, an’ any member of it that tries to make it diff’rent is goin’ to feel so bad that he’ll wish he’d never been born.  Do you understan’?  Don’t go to thinkin’ I’m ugly:  I’m only talkin’ sense.”

The cub of the family looked upward at his father from the corners of his eyes, and then he clinched his fists and turned slightly in the chair.  Before he could do more, his parent had him by both shoulders, had shaken him out of the chair, thrown him upon the floor, and was resting upon him with both knees.

“Tom,” said Sam to his astonished son, “you was the first boy I ever had, an’ I’d give away my right hand rather than have any real harm come to you, but you’ve got to mind me now, an’ you’ve got to do it until you’re of age, an’ if you don’t promise to do it now, right straight along, from this time forth, I’ll give you the thrashin’ now.  That ain’t all, either, you’ve got to be man enough to stand by your dad an’ say somethin to the fellers, an’ explain that you’re goin’ to stop bein’ a town loafer, an’ are goin’ into decent ways.”

Tom was so astonished by this demonstration of spirit that he made all the desired promises at once, and was released.

But Tom was not the only juvenile member of the family who was in need of reformation.  Mary, little Mary, not far beyond twelve years of age, demanded money to replenish her own wardrobe.

“Mary,” said her father, “we’re poor; we can’t afford fancy fixin’s.  This ain’t very cold weather.  You’ve good enough clothes on you to keep you warm:  what d’you want o’ somethin’ else?”

“What do I want o’ somethin’ else?” echoed the child, going to the door and tossing an imitation doll into the ash-heap, “why, I want better clothes, so’t the fellers about town’ll pay some ’tention to me, like they do to sister Jane.”