"
"_Et tu Brute_?" He turned upon her quickly. "Well, well, 'complete
my shame.' Where is the prize orator, anyhow?"
"Here, here!" called Hope, coming rapidly forward from a conference
with Mr. Malcolm; and amidst a sudden hush she said in a gentle,
serious tone, as if reluctantly discharging an imperative duty,
"The prize we have to offer you needs no explanation. As it is
familiar to you I will only say it appropriately illustrates one word
you have amply understood to-day, and that word is--_whipped_!"
She held aloft one of those clock-work toys one may pick up in Germany,
or Switzerland--a severe dame in a flapping cap, with a youngster
across her knee whom she vigorously belabors with a neat little bundle
of switches. Mr. Lawrence took it with meek 'Thank you,' and amidst
the laughter, explained,
"I bought the thing as an object-lesson for a friend at home who, does
not believe in corporal punishment for her spoiled child, and to-day
thought I would divert it to the purpose of a consolation prize for
some of you fellows who couldn't pitch gromets. Like most people who
dig a pit for others I have fallen into it myself! And now--may I give
this to one of the babies? I never want to see it again."
"I think you may," laughed Hope, and a little curly-pate close by was
made happy with the toy, which seemed destined to manifold uses.
CHAPTER X.
MRS. WINDEMERE'S DINNER.
"Well, it is almost time for the Lamb dinner," remarked Mr.
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