“And I call it a fine sample of entire obedience.  He obeyed orders, and that is what we all must do, without always seeing why, or daring to use our own judgment.  It is a great safeguard to Jack, and a very great comfort to me; for I know that if he promises he will keep his word, no matter what it costs him,” said Mamma warmly, as she tumbled up the quirls with an irrepressible caress, remembering how the boy came wearily in after all the others, without seeming for a moment to think that he could have done anything else.

“Like Casabianca!” cried Jill, much impressed, for obedience was her hardest trial.

“I think he was a fool to burn up,” said Frank, bound not to give in.

“I don’t.  It’s a splendid piece, and every one likes to speak it, and it was true, and it wouldn’t be in all the books if he was a fool.  Grown people know what is good,” declared Jill, who liked heroic actions, and was always hoping for a chance to distinguish herself in that way.

“You admire ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade,’ and glow all over as you thunder it out.  Yet they went gallantly to their death rather than disobey orders.  A mistake, perhaps, but it makes us thrill to hear of it; and the same spirit keeps my Jack true as steel when once his word is passed, or he thinks it is his duty.  Don’t be laughed out of it, my son, for faithfulness in little things fits one for heroism when the great trials come.  One’s conscience can hardly be too tender when honor and honesty are concerned.”

“You are right, mother, and I am wrong.  I beg your pardon, Jack, and you sha’n’t get ahead of me next time.”

Frank made his mother a little bow, gave his brother a shake of the hand, and nodded to Jill, as if anxious to show that he was not too proud to own up when he made a mistake.

“Please tell on, Jack.  This is very nice, but I do want to know all about the other,” said Jill, after a short pause.

“Let me see.  Oh, I saw Bob at church, and he looked rather blue; so, after Sunday School, I asked what the matter was.  He said Jerry bothered him for some money he lent him at different times when they were loafing round together, before we took him up.  He wouldn’t get any wages for some time.  The Captain keeps him short on purpose, I guess, and won’t let him come down town except on Sundays.  He didn’t want any one to know about it, for fear he’d lose his place.  So I promised I wouldn’t tell.  Then I was afraid Jerry would go and make a fuss, and Bob would run off, or do something desperate, being worried, and I said I’d pay it for him, if I could.  So he went home pretty jolly, and I scratched ’round for the money.  Got it, too, and wasn’t I glad?”

Jack paused to rub his hands, and Frank said, with more than usual respect,

“Couldn’t you get hold of Jerry in any other place, and out of school time?  That did the mischief, thanks to Joe.  I thrashed him, Jill—­did I mention it?”