He, however,
convinced that they were, cried steadily into his plate all the time that
he was eating them, and afterwards, in the playground, had a stand-up
fight with a fourth form boy who had requested a second helping.
That evening he performed another solemn oath-taking, and for the next
month was the model boy of the school. He read tracts, sent his spare
pocket-money to assist in annoying the heathen, and subscribed to _The
Young Christian_ and _The Weekly Rambler_, an Evangelical Miscellany
(whatever that may mean). An undiluted course of this pernicious
literature naturally created in him a desire towards the opposite
extreme. He suddenly dropped _The Young Christian_ and _The Weekly
Rambler_, and purchased penny dreadfuls; and taking no further interest
in the welfare of the heathen, saved up and bought a second-hand revolver
and a hundred cartridges. His ambition, he confided to me, was to become
"a dead shot," and the marvel of it is that he did not succeed.
Of course, there followed the usual discovery and consequent trouble, the
usual repentance and reformation, the usual determination to start a new
life.
Poor fellow, he lived "starting a new life." Every New Year's Day he
would start a new life--on his birthday--on other people's birthdays.
Pages:
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278