And why not he,
Joe Bronson?
He closed his eyes and felt immensely sorry for himself; and when he
opened his eyes again he found that he had been asleep, and that the
sun was sinking fast.
It was after dark when he arrived home, and he went straight to his room
and to bed without meeting any one. He sank down between the cool sheets
with a sigh of satisfaction at the thought that, come what would, he need
no longer worry about his history. Then another and unwelcome thought
obtruded itself, and he knew that the next school term would come, and
that six months thereafter, another examination in the same history
awaited him.
CHAPTER VII
FATHER AND SON
On the following morning, after breakfast, Joe was summoned to the
library by his father, and he went in almost with a feeling of gladness
that the suspense of waiting was over. Mr. Bronson was standing by the
window. A great chattering of sparrows outside seemed to have attracted
his attention. Joe joined him in looking out, and saw a fledgeling sparrow
on the grass, tumbling ridiculously about in its efforts to stand on its
feeble baby legs. It had fallen from the nest in the rose-bush that climbed
over the window, and the two parent sparrows were wild with anxiety over
its plight.
"It 's a way young birds have," Mr. Bronson remarked, turning to Joe
with a serious smile; "and I dare say you are on the verge of a somewhat
similar predicament, my boy," he went on.
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