old saying, "Like father, like son," and Clarence, now
turned sixteen, the only child of the country magnate, was like his
father in all objectionable qualities. He was quite as much impressed
with ideas of his own consequence.

It was about three o'clock in the afternoon. Mr. Ray sat on the
piazza, the day being unusually warm, reading a newspaper. In the
street, near by, his son Clarence was moving swiftly on a new bicycle
which his father had just purchased for him.

"Out of the way, there!" he called out, as a shabbily-dressed stranger
with a weary step plodded along the pathway.

Whether because he was hard of hearing or because his mind was
preoccupied, the stranger did not heed the warning, and Clarence, who
might easily have avoided the collision, ran into him recklessly. Had
the bicycle been moving at a greater rate of speed, he might have been
seriously hurt. As it was, he was nearly thrown down.

But he rallied, and seizing the offending rider with no gentle grasp,
dragged him from the wheel and shook him vigorously.

"Let me alone, you tramp!" exclaimed Clarence, furiously.

But the stranger did not release his hold.

"Not till you apologize for running into me," he answered sternly.

"Apologize to a man like you!" ejaculated Clarence, struggling
furiously for his freedom. "What do you take me for?"

"For an impudent young rascal," was the reply.

"Let me alone, I tell you!"

"Will you apologize?"

"There is no need of an apology. You got in my way."

"You have no business on the sidewalk with your bicycle. It is meant
for foot-passengers."

"Do you know who I am?" demanded Clarence, haughtily.

"No, I don't, nor do I care."

"I am Clarence Ray, son of Squire Stephen Ray. He is a magistrate, and
he can send you to jail."

These words of Clarence had the effect he desired. The stranger
released him and eyed him with close scrutiny.

"So you are the son of Stephen Ray?" he said.

"Yes. What have you to say now?"

"That you had no right to run into me, whoever your father may be."

"I shall report your insolence to my father. I shall charge you with
violently assaulting me."

"I might have known you were Stephen Ray's son," said the stranger
thoughtfully.

"Do you know my father?" asked Clarence in considerable surprise.

"I am on my way to call upon him."

"I don't think it will do any good. He never gives money to tramps."

"I have a great mind to give you another shaking up,"