put into a strait jacket, and tied to a
bell rope."

"It would be hard for you."

"I can't stand it, any how. I have made up my mind to be a saint. I
intend to keep out of all scrapes, and behave with perfect propriety
all the time, night and day."

"I hope you are not jesting, Richard," said Bertha, who did not like
the facetious language with which he clothed his resolutions.

"I'm in earnest. I mean every word I say. I solemnly promise you that I
will be a pattern of propriety; but I don't like the Tunbrook Military
Institute. I don't like the idea of being tied down to Colonel
Brockridge's little finger; of being drummed and fifed here and there;
and of reciting a Latin lesson at six o'clock in the morning, after an
hour's drill on the parade ground. Berty, to tell you the truth, I
don't believe I shall be able to keep my good resolutions, if I am to
be tied to a bell rope, or have to move by the tap of a drum."

"I hope you will."

"If I could stay at home, and have my pony and my boat, I should do
first rate."

Whatever the experienced reader may think of Richard's sincerity, he
was uttering an honest opinion. He sincerely feared that his courage
would not be equal to the work of submitting to the discipline of
Tunbrook, and conquering himself, at one and the same time. Tunbrook
and Colonel Brockridge seemed to be formidable obstacles in the path of
reform.

"You would soon get used to the discipline of the Institute," suggested
Bertha.

"I might get used to it as the old man's horse got used to living upon
shavings--when he died. If I go, I shall try to submit; but I don't
want to go."

"I don't see how it can be avoided. Father is determined that you shall
go."

"You can save me from this strait jacket, if you will, Berty."

"What can I do, Richard?"

"Mr. Presby will do any thing you ask him to do. You can tell him that
you think it would injure me to be sent to Tunbrook. Then he can talk
with father about it; and father will do any thing that Mr. Presby
wishes."

Bertha promised to speak to Mr. Presby about the matter, and she did so
at once; but instead of Bertha convincing him that it would injure
Richard to be sent to the Military School, he convinced her that it
would be the best thing in the world for him.

"I am afraid I spoiled my own children by over indulgence, and I cannot
counsel your father to do the same thing," said the old gentleman, with
deep feeling.

Bertha returned t