Into his pocket he thrust the strap, and the pink cheeks grew
pinker still as their owner answered:
"I--I--was just seeing--how hard I could hit my hand--without
crying;" and he disappeared around the side of the house before
mamma could ask any more questions.
The next day Tommy's seatmate, Dicky Ray, was naughty in school,
and Miss Linnet called him up, opened her desk, took out a little
riding whip--it was a bright blue one--and then and there
administered punishment. And because he cried, when recess came,
Tommy said: "Isn't Dick Ray just a reg'lar girl cry-baby?" (He
had learned that word from some of the big boys, but, mind you!
he never dared to say it before his mother.)
Dick's face flushed with anger. "Never you mind, Tommy Brown,"
said he, "Just wait till you get whipped and we'll see a truly
girl-cry-baby then, won't we, Daisy?"
And blue-eyed Daisy, who was the idol of their hearts, nodded her
curly little head in the most emphatic manner, and said she
"wouldn't be one bit s'prised if he'd holler so loud that hey
would hear him way down in Colorado."
Tommy stood aghast! for, really and truly, he wasn't quite so
stony-hearted a little mortal as he appeared to be; he had been
secretly rather sorry for Dick, but--he wanted Daisy to think
that he himself was big and manly, and he had the opinion that
this was just the way to win her admiration. But all this time
HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT DAISY DID--that Dick's pockets were full of
sugar-plums; tiptop ones too, for Daisy had tasted them, and knew
that little packets of them would from time to time find their
way into her chubby hand.
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