Therefore every meal to him was a
sacrament requiring conduct and attitude of mind not unlike that
befitting the Lord's Supper. No idle word was allowed to be spoken at
our table, much less any laughing or fun or story-telling. When we
were at the breakfast-table, about two weeks after the great golden
time-discovery, father cleared his throat preliminary, as we all knew,
to saying something considered important. I feared that it was to be
on the subject of my early rising, and dreaded the withdrawal of the
permission he had granted on account of the noise I made, but still
hoping that, as he had given his word that I might get up as early as
I wished, he would as a Scotchman stand to it, even though it was
given in an unguarded moment and taken in a sense unreasonably
far-reaching. The solemn sacramental silence was broken by the dreaded
question:--
"John, what time is it when you get up in the morning?"
"About one o'clock," I replied in a low, meek, guilty tone of voice.
"And what kind of a time is that, getting up in the middle of the
night and disturbing the whole family?"
I simply reminded him of the permission he had freely granted me to
get up as early as I wished.
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