In the holidays he returned to the teachings of Mrs. Jennett,
and, that the chain of discipline might not be weakened by association with the
world, was generally beaten, on one account or another, before he had been
twelve hours under her roof.
The autumn of one year brought him a companion in bondage, a long-haired, gray-
eyed little atom, as self-contained as himself, who moved about the house
silently and for the first few weeks spoke only to the goat that was her
chiefest friend on earth and lived in the back-garden. Mrs. Jennett objected to
the goat on the grounds that he was un-Christian,--which he certainly was.
"Then," said the atom, choosing her words very deliberately, "I shall write to
my lawyer-peoples and tell them that you are a very bad woman. Amomma is mine,
mine, mine!" Mrs. Jennett made a movement to the hall, where certain umbrellas
and canes stood in a rack. The atom understood as clearly as Dick what this
meant. "I have been beaten before," she said, still in the same passionless
voice; "I have been beaten worse than you can ever beat me. If you beat me I
shall write to my lawyer-peoples and tell them that you do not give me enough
to eat. I am not afraid of you." Mrs. Jennett did not go into the hall, and the
atom, after a pause to assure herself that all danger of war was past, went
out, to weep bitterly on Amomma"s neck.
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