After gazing on her son in mute despair for a minute or so, Mrs.Thorpe took the only course that was immediately open to her--or, in other words, took the child off the chair.
"Have you learnt your lesson, you wicked boy ?" she asked.
"No, I havn't," answered Zack, resolutely.
"Then come to the table with me: your papa's waiting to hear you.

Come here and learn your lesson directly," said Mrs.Thorpe, leading the way to the table.
"I won't!" rejoined Zack, emphasizing the refusal by laying tight hold of the wet sides of the bath with both hands.
It was lucky for this rebel of six years old that he addressed those two words to his mother only.

If his nurse had heard them, she would instantly have employed that old-established resource in all educational difficulties, familiarly known to persons of her condition under the appellation of "a smack on the head;" if Mr.Thorpe had heard them, the boy would have been sternly torn away, bound to the back of a chair, and placed ignominiously with his chin against the table; if Mr.Goodworth had heard them, the probability is that he would instantly have lost his temper, and soused his grandson head over ears in the bath.

Not one of these ideas occurred to Mrs.Thorpe, who possessed no ideas.

But she had certain substitutes which were infinitely more useful in the present emergency: she had instincts.
"Look up at me, Zack," she said, returning to the bath, and sitting in the chair by its side; "I want to say something to you." The boy obeyed directly.