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 up and down the room." Zack paused, debating for an instant whether he should disobey or burst out crying.
"Put back the stick," repeated Mr.Thorpe.
Zack remembered the dressing-room and the "Select Bible Texts for Children," and wisely obeyed.

He was by this time completely crushed down into as rigid a state of Sunday discipline as his father could desire.

After depositing the stick in the corner, he slowly walked up to Mr.Goodworth, with a comical expression of amazement and disgust in his chubby face, and meekly laid down his head on his grandfather's knee.
"Never say die, Zack," said the kind old gentleman, rising and taking the boy in his arms.