“What did your mother do to you when you ran away that time?”
“She tied me to the bed-post with a long string, so that I could not
go out of the room, and there I stayed all day with the little
worn-out shoes hanging up before me to remind me of my fault.”
“I should think that would cure anybody,” cried Nan, who loved
her liberty above all things.
“It did cure me, and I think it will you, so I am going to try it,” said
Mrs. Jo, suddenly taking a ball of strong twine out of a drawer in
her work-table.
Nan looked as if she was decidedly getting the worst of the
argument now, and sat feeling much crestfallen while Mrs. Jo tied
one end round her waist and the other to the arm of the sofa,
saying, as she finished,
“I don’t like to tie you up like a naughty little dog, but if you don’t
remember any better than a dog, I must treat you like one.”
“I’d just as lief be tied up as not I like to play dog;” and Nan put on
a don’t-care face, and began to growl and grovel on the floor.
Mrs. Jo took no notice, but leaving a book or two and a
handkerchief to hem, she went away, and left Miss Nan to her own
devices. This was not agreeable, and after sitting a moment she
tried to untie the cord. But it was fastened in the belt of her apron
behind, so she began on the knot at the other end. It soon came
loose, and, gathering it up, Nan was about to get out of the
window, when she heard Mrs. Jo say to somebody as she passed
through the hall,
“No, I don’t think she will run away now; she is an honorable little
girl, and knows that I do it to help her.”
In a minute, Nan whisked back, tied herself up, and began to sew
violently. Rob came in a moment after, and was so charmed with
the new punishment, that he got a jump-rope and tethered himself
to the other arm of the sofa in the most social manner.
“I got lost too, so I ought to be tied up as much as Nan,” he
explained to his mother when she saw the new captive.
“I’m not sure that you don’t deserve a little punishment, for you
knew it was wrong to go far away from the rest.”
“Nan took me,” began Rob, willing to enjoy the novel penalty, but
not willing to take the blame.
“You needn’t have gone. You have got a conscience, though you
are a little boy, and you must learn to mind it.”
“Well, my conscience didn’t prick me a bit when she said ‘Let’s get
over the wall,’ ” answered Rob, quoting one of Demi’s expressions.
“Did you stop to see if it did?”
“No.”
“Then you cannot tell.”
“I guess it’s such a little conscience that it don’t prick hard enough
for me to feel it,” added Rob, after thinking the matter over for a
minute.
“We must sharpen it up. It’s bad to have a dull conscience; so you
may stay here till dinner-time, and talk about it with Nan. I trust
you both not to untie yourselves till I say the word.”
“No, we won’t,” said both, feeling a certain sense of virtue in
helping to punish themselves.
For an hour they were very good, then they grew tired of one room,
and longed to get out. Never had the hall seemed so inviting; even
the little bedroom acquired a sudden interest, and they would
gladly have gone in and played tent with the curtains of the best
bed. The open windows drove them wild because they could not
reach them; and the outer world seemed so beautiful, they
wondered how they ever found the heart to say it was dull. Nan
pined for a race round the lawn, and Rob remembered with dismay
that he had not fed his dog that morning, and wondered what poor
Pollux would do. They watched the clock, and Nan did some nice
calculations in minutes and seconds, while Rob learned to tell all