"James," said Malcolm, when they went to their schoolroom, "if Mr. Dovesky
goes to shutting us up in the study and won't let us play while we learn,
what will we do to him to make him sick of his job?"
"Oh things would turn up!" replied James. "But Malcolm, wouldn't you kind
o' hate to have him see you be mean?"
"Well father saw us be mean," said Malcolm.
"Yes, but what would you give if he _hadn't?_"
"I'm not proud of it," replied Malcolm.
"Yes and that's just it!" cried James. "That's just what comes of living
here. All of them are so polite, and if you are halfway decent they are so
good to you, and they help you to do things that will make you into a man
who needn't be ashamed of himself--that's just it! How would you like to
go back and be so rough and so mean nobody at all would care for us?"
"Father wouldn't let us, would he?" asked Malcolm.
"He wouldn't if he could help it," said James. "He didn't used to seem as
if he could help it. Don't you remember he would tell us it was not the
right way, and try to have us be decent, and Lucette would tell mother,
and mother would fire him? I wonder how she could! And if she could then,
why doesn't she now? I guess he doesn't want to stop her party to bother
with us; but if she ever conies and wants to take us back like we were,
Malcolm, I'm not going.
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