It is of no consequence, for the purpose of this article, whether it is a real or an imaginary one.
Little Egbert, seven years old, had formed the habit so common among children of wasting a great deal of time in dressing himself, so as not to be ready for breakfast when the second bell rang.

His mother offered him a reward if he would himself devise any plan that would cure him of the fault.
"I don't know what to do, exactly, to cure you," she said; "but if you will think of any plan that will really succeed, I will give you an excursion in a carriage." "How far ?" asked Egbert.
"Ten miles," said his mother.

"I will take you in a carriage on an excursion anywhere you say, for ten miles, if you will find out some way to cure yourself of this fault." "I think you ought to punish me," said Egbert, speaking in rather a timid tone.
"That's just it," said his mother, "It is for you to think of some kind of punishment that won't be too disagreeable for me to inflict, and which will yet be successful in curing you of the fault.

I will allow you a fortnight to get cured.

If you are not cured in a fortnight I shall think the punishment is not enough, or that it is not of a good kind; but if it works so well as to cure you in a fortnight, then you shall have the ride." Egbert wished to know whether he must think of the punishment himself, or whether his sister Mary might help him.