do--with a gun on his shoulder, instead of poking at home like a
yard-dog, and behowling oneself in po-o-oetry;" and Tom lifted up his
voice into a doleful mastiff's howl.

"Then be as good as your word, Tom, and let every one please
themselves," said the Doctor; but the dark youth broke out in sudden
passion.

"Mr. Thomas Thurnall! I will not endure this! Why are you always
making me your butt,--insulting me, sir, even in your father's house?
You do not understand me; and I do not care to understand you. If my
presence is disagreeable to you, I can easily relieve you of it!" and
the dark youth turned to go away like Naaman, in a rage.

"Stop, John," said the Doctor. "I think it would be the more courteous
plan for Tom to relieve you of his presence. Go and find Mark, Tom;
and please to remember that John Briggs is my guest, and that I will
not allow any rudeness to him in my house."

"I'll go, daddy, to the world's end, if you like, provided you won't
ask me to write poetry. But Jack takes offence so soon. Give us your
hand, old tinder-box! I meant no harm, and you know it."

John Briggs took the proffered hand sulkily enough; and Tom went out
of the glass door, whistling as merry as a cricket.

"My dear boy," said the Doctor, when they were alone, "you must try to
curb this temper of yours. Don't be angry with me, but--"

"I should be an ungrateful brute if I was, sir. I can bear anything