"Name?—oh! why—Lord Cornwallis, to be sure;" said I, as I walked off in the boots.
"And vat shall I do vid my lort’s shoes?" "Keep them until I send for them," said I; and, giving him a patronizing bow, I walked out of the shop, as the German tied up my shoes in a paper. ****
This story I would not have told, but that my whole life turned upon these accursed boots. I walked back to school as proud as a peacock, and easily succeeded in satisfying the boys as to the manner in which I came by my new ornaments.
Well, one fatal Monday morning, the blackest of all black Mondays that ever I knew—as we were all of us playing between school hours—I saw a posse of boys round a stranger, who seemed to be looking out for one of us—a sudden trembling seized me—I knew it was Stiffelkind; what had brought him here? He talked loud, and seemed angry—so I rushed into the school-room, and, burying my head between my hands, began reading for the dear life.
