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"You may give an order for a suit of decent apparel fit to wait at table with, for I want you to understand that your duties may bring you to wait upon ladies and gentlemen, though you know nothing about that. Do you hear?",

"Throat burnin' yet?" inquired Billy.,

"Yep, but one dived an' is gettin' away. After him, Moll." The spaniel, with a joyful whine, cleared the rush wall and splashed into the water. "Fine!" cried Billy, as he reloaded, "Moll's goin' to bring him in.",

"What did he say to you?" repeated the lawyer, and the wretched man on the rack answered hopelessly: "He told me that if I didn't give the will up to Stanhope he would have me arrested and sent to the pen."

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"Are we now?" Landon rubbed his hands and smacked his lips in anticipation. "You're goin' to stay and help clean up on 'em, Billy?",

"Boys and girls, I am your teacher. I shall expect you to obey me implicitly. If you do not, I shall punish you. I am here to teach you; you are here to learn and profit from my teaching. I have heard bad reports of most of you, but for the present I shall refrain from mentioning any names. When in the school-room you will be allowed to address me as 'Sir.' Outside the school-room you will not address me in any manner whatsoever.",

"Hully gee! ol' feller, look!" Maurice extracted the wand and held it up before the animal's gaze. "Oh, don't put your ears back an' grin at me. I ain't goin' to use it on you," laughed the lad. "Look! This is what I'm goin' to do with that ol' bruiser's pointer." From a trouser's pocket he extracted a jackknife. "Now horsie, jest you watch me close. The next time he makes a cut at you he's goin' to get the surprise of his life. There, see? I've cut it through. Now I'll jest rub on some of this here clay to hide the cut. There you be! If I know anythin' 'bout seasoned hickory that pointer's goin' to split into needles right in his hand. I hope they go through his ol' fist and clinch on t'other side.",

That night the fishermen of Sandtown were caught red-handed, stealing Deacon Ringold's harvest apples. Like hungry ants scenting sugar they descended upon that orchard, en masse, at exactly ten-thirty o'clock. By ten-forty they had done more damage to the hanging fruit than a wind storm could do in an hour and at ten-forty-five they were pounced upon by the angry deacon and his neighbors and given the lecture of their lives. In vain they pleaded that it was all a mistake, that they had been sent an invitation via a small boy, from the deacon himself.