boys and girls. There was something painfully fascinating about
those whippings to restless, mischievous little Tommy who had never
learned the art of sitting still. He knew his turn might come at any
moment and one night he cried out in his sleep: "Oh, dear, what will
become of me if I get whipped!" But as the days passed on and this
possible retribution overtook him not, his fears gradually forsook him,
and instead of speaking pitifully of "those poor little children who
were whipped," he mentioned them in a causal off-hand manner as, "those
cry-babies, you know?" One afternoon mamma saw him sitting on the porch,
slapping his little fat hand with a strap. "Tommy, child, what in the
world are you doing?" she asked.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.All the rest of the morning Tommy kept thinking, thinking, thinking.
One thing was certain: the present situation was not to be endured
one moment longer than was absolutely necessary. But what could he do?
Should he fight Dicky? This plan was rejected at once, on high, moral
grounds. Well, then, supposing some dark night he should see Daisy on
the street, just grab her, hold on tight and say: "Now, Daisy Rivers, I
won't let you go till you 

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