Hide and Seek | Page 8

tip of her chin.
"And now you will learn your lesson?" continued Mrs. Thorpe. "I have
always tried to make you happy, and I am sure you are ready, by this
time, to try and make me happy--are you not, Zack?"
"Yes, I am," said Zack manfully. His mother took him at once to the
table, on which the "Select Bible Texts for Children" lay open, and
tried to lift him into a chair "No!" said the boy, resisting and shaking
his head resolutely; "I want to learn my lesson on your lap."
Mrs. Thorpe humored him immediately. She was not a handsome, not
even a pretty woman; and the cold atmosphere of the dressing-room by
no means improved her personal appearance. But, notwithstanding this,
she looked absolutely attractive and interesting at the present moment,
as she sat with Zack in her arms, bending over him while he studied his
three verses in the "Bible Texts." Women who have been ill-used by
nature have this great advantage over men in the same
predicament--wherever there is a child present, they have a means
ready at hand, which they can all employ alike, for hiding their
personal deficiencies. Who ever saw an awkward woman look
awkward with a baby in her arms? Who ever saw an ugly woman look
ugly when she was kissing a child?
Zack, who was a remarkably quick boy when he chose to exert himself,
got his lesson by heart in so short a time that his mother insisted on
hearing him twice over, before she could satisfy herself that he was
really perfect enough to appear in his father's presence. The second trial
decided her doubts, and she took him in triumph down stairs.
Mr. Thorpe was reading intently, Mr. Goodworth was thinking
profoundly, the rain was falling inveterately, the fog was thickening
dirtily, and the austerity of the severe-looking parlor was hardening
apace into its most adamantine Sunday grimness, as Zack was brought
to say his lesson at his father's knees. He got through it perfectly again;
but his childish manner, during this third trial, altered from frankness to
distrustfulness; and he looked much oftener, while he said his task, at

Mr. Goodworth than at his father. When the texts had been repeated,
Mr. Thorpe just said to his wife, before resuming his book--"You may
tell the nurse, my dear, to get Zachary's dinner ready for him--though
he doesn't deserve it for behaving so badly about learning his lesson."
"Please, grandpapa, may I look at the picture-book you brought for me
last night, after I was in bed?" said Zack, addressing Mr. Goodworth,
and evidently feeling that he was entitled to his reward now he had
suffered his punishment.
"Certainly not on a Sunday," interposed Mr. Thorpe; "your grandpapa's
book is not a book for Sundays."
Mr. Goodworth started, and seemed about to speak; but recollecting
what he had said to Mr. Thorpe, contented himself with poking the fire.
The book in question was a certain romance, entitled "Jack and the
Bean Stalk," adorned with illustrations in the freest style of water-color
art.
"If you want to look at picture-books, you know what books you may
have to-day; and your mamma will get them for you when she comes in
again," continued Mr. Thorpe.
The works now referred to were, an old copy of the "Pilgrim's
Progress" containing four small prints of the period of the last century;
and a "Life of Moses," illustrated by severe German outlines in the
manner of the modern school. Zack knew well enough what books his
father meant, and exhibited his appreciation of them by again
beginning to wriggle his shoulders in and out of his frock. He had
evidently had more than enough already of the "Pilgrim's Progress" and
the "Life of Moses."
Mr. Thorpe said nothing more, and returned to his reading. Mr.
Goodworth put his hands in his pockets, yawned disconsolately, and
looked, with a languidly satirical expression in his eyes, to see what his
grandson would do next. If the thought passing through the old
gentleman's mind at that moment had been put into words, it would
have been exactly expressed in the following sentence:--"You

miserable little boy! When I was your age, how I should have kicked at
all this!"
Zack was not long in finding a new resource. He spied Mr.
Goodworth's cane standing in a corner; and, instantly getting astride of
it, prepared to amuse himself with a little imaginary horse-exercise up
and down the room. He had just started at a gentle canter, when his
father called out, "Zachary!" and brought the boy to a stand-still
directly.
"Put back the stick where you took it from," said Mr. Thorpe; "you
mustn't do that on Sunday. If you want to move about, you can walk