"
Rilla was writhing. Hadn't Susan any realization that she was addressing
an officer of the Canadian Army? Apparently she had not. Oh, what would
Ken think? "I suppose you do not remember the time your mother spanked
you either," continued Susan, who seemed to be bent on reviving tender
reminiscences that evening. "I shall never, no never, forget it. She was
up here one night with you when you were about three, and you and Walter
were playing out in the kitchen yard with a kitten. I had a big puncheon
of rainwater by the spout which I was reserving for making soap. And you
and Walter began quarrelling over the kitten. Walter was at one side of
the puncheon standing on a chair, holding the kitten, and you were
standing on a chair at the other side. You leaned across that puncheon
and grabbed the kitten and pulled. You were always a great hand for
taking what you wanted without too much ceremony. Walter held on tight
and the poor kitten yelled but you dragged Walter and the kitten half
over and then you both lost your balance and tumbled into that puncheon,
kitten and all. If I had not been on the spot you would both have been
drowned. I flew to the rescue and hauled you all three out before much
harm was done, and your mother, who had seen it all from the upstairs
window, came down and picked you up, dripping as you were, and gave you
a beautiful spanking.
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