"Ready for to-night?
No breakfast yet?
Why, now... ?" Then perceiving, as all practised fathers instantly must, that the atmosphere was sinful, he changed his voice to that of the Children's Sunday Afternoon Service--a voice well known in his family.
"Please, sir," began the Jampot, "I'm sorry to 'ave to tell you, sir, that Master Jeremy's not been at all good this morning." "Well, Jeremy," he said, turning to his son, "what is it ?" Jeremy's face, raised to his father's, was hard and set and sullen.
"I've told a lie," he said; "I said I'd cleaned my teeth when I hadn't.
Nurse went and looked, and then I called her a beastly woman." The Jampot's face expressed a grieved and at the same time triumphant confirmation of this.
"You told a lie ?" Mr.Cole's voice was full of a lingering sorrow.
"Yes," said Jeremy.
"Are you sorry ?" "I'm sorry that I told a lie, but I'm not sorry I called Nurse a beastly woman." "Jeremy!" "No, I'm not.

She is a beastly woman." Mr.Cole was always at a loss when anyone defied him, even though it were only a small boy of eight.

He took refuge now in his ecclesiastical and parental authority.
"I'm very distressed--very distressed indeed.

I hope that punishment, Jeremy, will show you how wrong you have been.

I'm afraid you cannot come with us to the Pantomime to-night." At that judgement a quiver for an instant held Jeremy's face, turning it, for that moment, into something shapeless and old.