h turned round and made a face at him.

"Give me the rattan," said Edward, half laughing, and offering to take
it out of his hand. "I'll use it to your full satisfaction."

The boy thought it most prudent to stride off and return to the table,
and ensconce himself among his brothers and sisters; some of whom were
staring with stupid surprise; others were whispering and giggling in
the hope of seeing Joseph get a real flogging.

Mrs. Watkinson having bestowed a bitter look on Edward, hastened to
turn the attention of his mother to something else. "Mrs. Morland,"
said she, "allow me to introduce you to my youngest hope." She pointed
to a sleepy boy about five years old, who with head thrown back and
mouth wide open, was slumbering in his chair.

Mrs. Watkinson's children were of that uncomfortable species who never
go to bed; at least never without all manner of resistance. All her
boasted authority was inadequate to compel them; they never would
confess themselves sleepy; always wanted to "sit up," and there was a
nightly scene of scolding, coaxing, threatening and manoeuvring to get
them off.

"I declare," said Mrs. Watkinson, "dear Benny is almost asleep. Shake
him up, Christopher. I want him to speak a speech. His school-mistress
takes great pains in teaching her little pupils to speak, and stands
up herself and shows them how."

The child having been shaken up hard (two or three others helping
Christopher), rubbed his eyes and began to whine. His mother went to
him, took him on her lap, hushed him up, and began to coax him. This
done, she stood him on his feet before Mrs. Morland, and desired him
to speak a speech for the company. The child put his thumb into his
mouth, and remained silent.

"Ma," said Jane Watkinson, "you had better tell him what speech to
speak."

"Speak Cato or Plato," said his mother. "Which do you call it? Come
now, Benny--how does it begin? 'You are quite right and reasonable,
Plato.' That's it."

"Speak Lucius," said his sister Jane. "Come now, Benny--say 'your
thoughts are turned on peace.'"

The little boy looked very much as if they were _not_, and as if
meditating an outbreak.

"No, no!" exclaimed Christopher, "let him say Hamlet. Come now,
Benny--'To be or not to be.'"

"It ain't to be at all," cried Benny, "and I won't speak the least bit
of it for any of you. I hate that speech!"

"Only see his obstinacy," said the solemn Joseph. "And is he to be
given up to?"

"Spea