MORRIS (_crying and rubbing his eyes_). Oh, dear!
MARY. What's the matter, my son? Have you had a tumble?
MORRIS. No, mother; never mind.
MARY. But tell me, what has happened?
MORRIS (_trying to lead her away_). Come, mother, let us go away.
MRS. L. Where Is Edward?
MORRIS. In the garden, ma'am. Come, mother, come; I want to go home. I
don't like this place.
MRS. L. No doubt Edward is picking a basket of fruit for you.
MORRIS. I rather think not. Mother, I beg you to let us leave at once. I
have my reasons.
MR. S. And I can guess them. Edward has been beating you--has he not?
MRS. L. Impossible!!!
MORRIS. Very possible, indeed. In fact, quite certain.
MRS. L. Dear me! did he hurt you much?
MORRIS. It is not the pain. I could have beaten him twice as hard if I
wanted to. What hurts me most is what he said.
MRS. L. And, pray, what did he say?
MORRIS. Well, ma'am, when I wanted to hug old Beppo, he told me to take
my paws from the dog's neck; that I was a country bumpkin, and a big
clumsy booby, and no brother of his; and the sooner I skedaddled home
the better he should be pleased.
MARY. Oh! the unnatural, wicked boy! You are right, my son; we will go
home, where we are not despised. Good bye, Mrs. Langdon; Master Edward
is your son; but I no longer think of him as the child I fed at my
breast, and loved nearly as my own. He has struck his brother! Come, my
son, you are not his equal; therefore you cannot be his friend.
MRS. L. But listen one moment, Mary.
MARY. No, ma'am; we will not stay where we have been so humbled; we are
plain country folks, but we have hearts and feelings, and your son has
neither. God will never bless him. Such pride has no place in heaven.
MRS. L. You are right, Mary; but perhaps Morris offended him. You have
not heard both sides.
MORRIS. Yes, I offended him. I put my arms round his neck to hug him,
when he threw me off; and when I said that that was not the way to treat
a brother, he struck me!--more than once, too!--and said those mean,
cruel things.
MARY. Oh, the little villain!
MR. S. Are your eyes still blinded, Mrs. Langdon? Can you still find
excuses? Will you praise his good heart when he dares to ill-treat and
strike his nurse's son?
MRS. L. (_weeping_). No, I cannot excuse him; his ingratitude and wicked
conduct have nearly broken my heart. What shall I do?
MR. S. I have just thought of a plan, madam. It is a desperate remedy;
but I know of nothing else in the wide world that will cure him.
MRS. L. Tell me--what is it?
MR. S. (_aside_). Nurse, send away your son for a few moments; he must
not know what I am about to say.
MARY. I understand, sir. Morris, go to the stable, and see if old
Whitenose has eaten all he wants.
MORRIS (_jumping up with animation_). I am to put him to the wagon, am I
not? and then we are to go home. Oh, I am so very glad.
[_Exit._