"What does your mother say when you tell her those dreadful lies?"
"She says I take after father."
"A little lad was desperately ill, but refused to take the medicine the
doctor had left. At last his mother gave him up.
"Oh, my boy will die; my boy will die," she sobbed.
But a voice spoke from the bed, "Don't cry, mother. Father'll be home
soon and he'll make me take it."
Mrs. White was undoubtedly the disciplinarian of the family. The master
of the house, a professor, and consequently a very busy man, was
regarded by the children as one of themselves, subject to the laws of
"Mother."
Mrs. White had been ill for some weeks and although the father felt that
the children were showing evidence of running wild, he seemed powerless
to correct the fault. One evening at dinner, however, he felt obliged to
reprimand Marion severely.
"Marion," he said, sternly, "stop that at once, or I shall take you from
the table and punish you soundly."
He experienced a feeling of profound satisfaction in being able to thus
reprove when it was necessary and glanced across the table expecting to
see a very demure little miss. Instead, Marion and her little brother
exchanged glances and then simultaneously a grin overspread their faces,
while Marion said in a mirthful tone:
"Oh, Francis, hear father trying to talk like mother!"
Robert has lately acquired a stepmother. Hoping to win his affection
this new parent has been very lenient with him, while his father,
feeling his responsibility, has been unusually strict. The boys of the
neighborhood, who had taken pains to warn Robert of the terrible
character of stepmothers in general, recently waited on him in a body,
and the following conversation was overheard:
"How do you like your stepmother, Bob?"
"Like her! Why fellers, I just love her. All I wish is I had a
stepfather, too."
"Well, Bobby, what do you want to be when you grow up?"