Маленькие мужчины / Little men. Уровень 4

You can come if Demi doesn’t mind, and I guess he won’t, because he said last night that he liked you.”

“Did he?” and Nat smiled with pleasure.

“Yes; Demi likes quiet boys. And you can read books together.”

“I can’t read very well; I never had any time, you know.”

Punishment

Nat was very fond of Mrs. Bhaer, but found something even more attractive in the good professor, who took fatherly care of the shy feeble boy. Father Bhaer took pleasure in fostering poor Nat’s virtues, and in curing his faults, finding his new pupil as docile and affectionate as a girl.

He often called Nat his “daughter” when speaking of him to Mrs. Jo.

One fault of Nat’s gave the Bhaers much anxiety. Nat sometimes told lies[9 - told lies – врал]. A lie is a lie, it is not right, and everybody knows it.

“Watch your tongue, and eyes, and hands, for it is easy to tell, and look, and act untruth,” said Mr. Bhaer to Nat one day.

“I know it.

I used to tell lies because I was afraid of father and Nicolo, and now I do sometimes because the boys laugh at me. I know it’s bad, but I forget,” Nat looked much depressed by his sins.

“When I was a little lad I used to tell lies! Ach! But my old grandmother cured me of it. How? My parents cried, and punished, but still did I forget as you. Then said the dear old grandmother, �I shall help you to remember’. With that she drew out my tongue and snipped the end with her scissors till the blood ran.

That was terrible, you may believe, but it did me much good, because it was sore for days, and every word I said came so slowly that I had time to think. After that I was more careful, for I feared the big scissors.”

“I never had any grandmothers, but if you think it will cure me, I’ll let you snip my tongue,” said Nat, heroically, for he dreaded pain.

Mr. Bhaer smiled, but shook his head.

“I have a better way than that, I tried it once before and it worked well.

See now, when you tell a lie I will not punish you, but you will punish me.”

“How?” asked Nat.

“You will ferule me in the good old-fashioned way; I seldom do it myself, but it may make you remember better to give me pain than to feel it yourself.”

“Strike you? Oh, I can’t!” cried Nat.

“Then watch your tongue. I have no wish to be hurt, but I will gladly bear much pain to cure this fault.