"
"And so little Armie is the brave one of all!"
"Well, so he is," said Jock; "but I say, mother, don't go making him
cockier. You know he's only fit to be stitched up in one of Jessie's
little red Sunday books, and he must learn to keep a civil tongue in
his head, and not be an insufferable little donkey."
"You would not have had him give in and do it! Never, Jock!"
"Why no, but he could have got off with a little chaff instead of
coming out with his testimony like that, and so I've been telling
him. So don't you set him up again to think himself forty martyrs
all in one, or there will be no living with him."
"If all boys were like him."
Jock made a sound of horror and disgust that made her laugh.
"He's all very well," added he in excuse; "but to think of all being
like that. The world would be only one big muff."
"But, Jock, what's this about Bobus being paid for doing people's
exercises?"
"Bobus is a cute one," said Jock.
"I thought he had more uprightness," she sighed. "And you, Jock?"
"I should think not!" he laughed. "Nobody would trust me."
"Is that the only reason?" she said, sadly, and he looked up in her
face, squeezed her hand, and muttered—-
"One mayn't like dirt without making such a row."
"That's like father's boy," she said, and he wrung her hand again.
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