o　speak　to　men；　were　dictated　byHeaven　and　were　meant　for　him。　He　was　fourteen—was　it　too　lat？　And　thus　uneasiness　wasreinforced　by　the　impression；　which　at　that　moment　he　realized　had　been　his　all　along；　that　hismother　was　not　saying　everything　she　meant。　What；　he　wondered；　did　she　say　to　Aunt　Florencewhen　they　talked　together？　Or　to　his　father？　What　were　her　thoughts？　Her　face　would　never　tell。

And　yet；　looking　down　at　him　in　a　moment　that　was　like　a　secret；　passing　sign；　her　face　did　tellhim。　Her　thoughts　were　bitter。

‘I　don’t　care；’　Roy　said；　rising。　‘When　I　have　children　I　ain’t　going　to　treat　them　like　this。’

John　watched　his　mother；　she　watched　Roy。　‘I’m　sure　this　ain’t　no　way　to　be。　Ain’t　got　no　right　tohave　a　houseful　of　children　if　you　don’t　know　how　to　treat　them。’

‘You　mighty　grown　up　this　morning；’　his　mother　said。　‘You　be　careful。’

‘And　tell　me　something　else；’　Roy　said；　suddenly　leaning　over　his　mother；　‘tell　me　howe　he　don’t　never　let　me　talk　to　him　like　I　talk　to　you？　He’s　my　father；　ain’t　he？　But　he　don’tnever　listen　to　me—no；　I　all　the　time　got　to　listen　to　him。’

‘Your　father；’　she　said；　watching　him；　‘knows　best。　You　listen　to　your　father；　I　guaranteeyou　you　won’t　end　up　in　no　jail。’

Roy　sucked　his　teeth　in　fury。　‘I　ain’t　looking　to　go　to　no　jail。　You　think　that’s　all　that’s　inthe　world　is　jails　and　churches？　You　ought　to　know　better　than　that；　Ma。’

‘I　know；’　she　said；　‘there　ain’t　no　safety　except　you　walk　humble　before　the　Lord。　Yougoing　to　find　it　out；　too；　one　day。　You　go　on；　hardhead。　You　going　to　e　to　grief。’

And　suddenly　Rot　grinned。　‘But　you　be　there；　won’t　you；　Ma—when　I’m　in　trouble？’

‘You　don’t　know；’　she　said；　trying　not　to　smile；　‘how　long　the　Lord’s　going　to　let　me　st