May propitious
gales speed that day!)
"Were you by Mr. Nichols's garden-fence last night?" said Lugare.
"Yes, sir," answer'd the boy, "I was."
"Well, sir, I'm glad to find you so ready with your confession. And
so you thought you could do a little robbing, and enjoy yourself in
a manner you ought to be ashamed to own, without being punish'd, did
you?"
"I have not been robbing," replied the boy quickly. His face was
suffused, whether with resentment or fright, it was difficult to tell.
"And I didn't do anything last night, that I am ashamed to own."
"No impudence!" exclaim'd the teacher, passionately, as he grasp'd a
long and heavy ratan: "give me none of your sharp speeches, or I'll
thrash you till you beg like a dog."
The youngster's face paled a little; his lip quiver'd, but he did not
speak.
"And pray, sir," continued Lugare, as the outward signs of wrath
disappear'd from his features; "what were you about the garden for?
Perhaps you only receiv'd the plunder, and had an accomplice to do the
more dangerous part of the job?"
"I went that way because it is on my road home. I was there again
afterwards to meet an acquaintance; and--and--But I did not go into
the garden, nor take anything away from it. I would not steal,--hardly
to save myself from starving."
"You had better have stuck to that last evening. You were seen, Tim
Barker, to come from under Mr. Nichols's garden-fence, a little
after nine o'clock, with a bag full of something or other over your
shoulders.
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