might lie on the floor and scream, or get up and study; but
until that lesson was learned, he would not leave the library, or taste
a morsel of food.

The shrieks were now renewed in a louder and more agonized tone than
ever, and were plainly heard in Mrs. Elwyn's sitting-room, where, in a
state bordering on distraction, she was hurriedly pacing the floor, at
times almost determined to insist upon being admitted to the library,
that she might take her unhappy son to her arms, and dismiss his
inexorable tutor; and then deterred from this course by the promise she
had made, and the deep respect which she could not but feel for the
young minister. She could not but confess, too, in her inmost heart,
that this discipline was really for the good of her passionate boy,
though the means resorted to seemed to her severe. Of the two, she was
more wretched than Lewie, who really had no small sense of enjoyment, in
the consciousness of the pain and annoyance he was causing to others.

The screams now ceased, and the anxious mother really hoped that Lewie
was about to comply with his tutor's wishes, and that she should soon
clasp him to her breast, wipe away his tears, and soothe his troubled
heart. She was already, in her mind, planning some reward for him for
condescending at length to yield his stubborn will. But the quiet was
only in consequence of the utter exhaustion of Master Lewie's lungs, and
he took refuge in a dogged silence, still rolling on the floor. Mr.
Malcolm sat reading, as much at his ease, and apparently with as much
interest, as if he were the only occupant of the library.

At last the young rebel was made aware, by certain ringing sounds, and
divers savory odors, that the hour of dinner had arrived; and his
appetite being considerably sharpened by the excitement through which he
had passed, he began to entertain the suspicion that he had been rather
foolish in holding out so long in his obstinacy. He really wished that
he had learned the lesson, and was free for the afternoon; but how to
come down was the puzzle now. He determined to be as ugly about it as
possible, thinking that his tutor might be pretty weary by that time as
well as he, and might hail joyfully any tokens of submission.

So Master Lewie began to call out:

"I want my dinner!"

"What is that, Lewie?" said Mr. Malcolm, looking up quietly from his
book.

"I want my _dinner_, I tell you!" roared Lewie.

Pushing his book towards him, Mr.