Sam was not responsive. Little boys were a great deal of trouble, he

said.

"Come now; how long since--"

Sam's limpid deer's-eyes reproached her silently.

"How shall I amuse him?" she said.

And Sam eager to serve her promised to find a pair of rabbits for the

child. "I used to like rabbits when I was young," he explained.

At last, after his hostess had swallowed many yawns, Sam reluctantly

said good night. He went bounding down the hill in the darkness,

across the fields, through the woods. In the starlight, the great

world lay dim and lovely before him--it belonged to him! He felt the

joyous buffet of the night wind upon his face, the brush of boughs

against his shoulder, the scent of young ferns, and the give of the

spongy earth under his feet; he sprang in long leaps over the grass,

the tears were wet upon his fresh cheeks, he sang aloud. But he did

not know what he sang; in his young breast, Love, like some warm

living thing, stirred, and lifted glorious wings and drove his voice

throbbing and exultant to his lips! As he came down Main Street, the

church clock struck eleven. But it might have struck twelve and he

would not have been disturbed.

Standing in the doorway of the Wright house in thunderous silence the

senior warden, lamp in hand awaited his son. As Sam entered, the

silence broke into a flash of crackling and scathing contempt.

"It does not occur to you, sir, I suppose, that a lady may find your

society tiresome? It is after eleven!"

Sam smiling to himself hung up his hat. He was reflecting that he must

see about those rabbits at once.

"You will understand, sir, if you please, that while you do me the

honor to live under my roof you will return to it at night at a

respectable hour. I will not sit up for you in this way. You will be

in at ten o'clock. Do you hear?"

"Yes, sir," said Sam; and added with sudden awakening of interest, "if

you would let me have a key, father, I--"

"I will not let you have a key! I will have no boy entering my house

at midnight with a key! Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Sam murmured falling back into his own thoughts.

Mr. Wright, still talking, stood at the foot of the stairs so that his

son could not pass him. Sam yawned, then noticed how in oratorical

denunciation his father's long upper lip curved like the beak of a

bird of prey; behind his hand he tried to arch his own lip in the same

manner. He really did not hear what was said to him; he only sighed

with relief when it was over and he was allowed to go up-stairs and

tumble sleepily into bed.




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