Behind the
stairway-door was a small boy kicking off a very small pair of trousers
with a degree of reluctance which showed that he also wished to sit up
and wait for somebody.

"Say, ma, _need_ I go to bed now!" he exclaimed rather than inquired,
starting to pull on the trousers again after he had got one leg free.
"He'll want me to hold the lantern for him to take care of the hoss."

"No, no, Taddy," for that was the boy's name, (short for Thaddeus,)
"you'll only be in the way, if you set up. Besides, I want to mend your
pants."

"You're always wantin' to mend my pants!" complained the youngster, who
seemed to think that it was by no means to do him a favor, but rather to
afford herself a gloating pleasure, that Mrs. Ducklow, who had a mania
for patching, required the garment to be delivered up to her. "I wish
there was n't such a thing as pants in the world!"

"Don't talk that way, after all the trouble and expense we've been to to
clothe ye!" said the good woman, reprovingly. "Where would you be now,
if 't wasn't for me and yer Pa Ducklow?"

"I shouldn't be goin' to bed when I don't want to!" he muttered, just
loud enough to be heard.

"You ungrateful child!" said Mrs. Ducklow, not without reason, for Taddy
knew very well--at least he was reminded of the fact often enough--that
he owed to them his home and all its comforts. "Wouldn't be going to bed
when you don't want to! You wouldn't be going to bed when you want to,
more likely; for ten to one you wouldn't have a bed to go to. Think of
the sitewation you was in when we adopted ye, and then talk that way!"

As this was an unanswerable argument, Taddy contented himself with
thrusting a hand into his trousers and recklessly increasing the area of
the forthcoming patch. "If she likes to mend so well, let her!" thought
he.

"Taddy, are you tearing them pants?" cried Mrs. Ducklow sharply, hearing
a sound alarmingly suggestive of cracking threads.

"I was pullin' 'em off," said Taddy. "I never see such mean cloth! can't
touch it, but it has to tear.--Say, ma, do ye think he'll bring me home
a drum?"

"You'll know in the morning."

"I want to know to-night. He said mabby he would. Say, _can't_ I set
up?"

"I'll let ye know whether you can set up, after you've been told so many
times!"

So saying, Mrs. Ducklow rose from her chair, laid down her
knitting-work, and started for the stairway-door with great energy and a
rattan. But Taddy, who perceived retri