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“Do you know what you deserve?” asked Father. Not a sound in reply. “You shall escape this time,” continued Father. “I think you will remember your Mother’s tears now better than a whipping; but another time—do you hear?”, Johnny Blossom hastened to get Mother’s sharpest scissors—the big shiny ones—for he intended to cut some long strips of stout cloth to tie the goat’s legs with. Johnny cut and cut. Suddenly the big blades slipped, caught Johnny’s little finger, and before he knew it, had cut the tip of it clean off! It hurt awfully—oh, well—not so terribly after all; but my, oh, my! how it bled! Johnny Blossom bound his not over-clean handkerchief around it, but still the blood came. Now it was all over his trousers. Perhaps he had better hide until it stopped., Bob was looking into the glowing coals, thinking over the events of the day, which, since they had turned out safely, were now to be treasured as great adventures. Jerry for his part was lying looking up at the narrow strip of star-lit sky showing between the edges of the canyon’s top. Suddenly he rolled over and put his hand on his companion’s shoulder..