His dinner often had to wait until five or six or even later,
so he seldom cared to eat again when the others had their supper.
One afternoon, however, he appeared just as Keith and his mother were to
sit for dinner. It put her in a flutter and she couldn't get an
additional cover laid quick enough.
"I heard that mother was coming," he remarked as he seated himself at
the table.
Instantly Keith's mother shot an apprehensive glance at the boy and
exclaimed:
"Please try to be a real nice boy now, so that your grandmother does not
get a bad impression of you." Then she added, turning to her husband:
"She never says anything, but she always looks as if I spoiled Keith
hopelessly."
"Well," the father rejoined thoughtfully, "she brought up four children
of her own without anybody else to help her, and there was not one among
us who dared to disregard her slightest word."
"How about Henrik," the mother suggested a little tartly.
"Yes, the one spared is the one spoiled," admitted the father with a
sigh. "He was the youngest, and while he was licked like all of us, her
hand never seemed quite as firm with him as with the rest. The worst
thing parents can do to children is to let them have their own will."
Keith was listening with one ear only.
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