SCHOOL DREAMS. 51
The poor fellow screams, and struggles to escape ; but the blows come faster and thicker. The blood tingles in your finger ends with indignation.
" Please don t strike me again," says the boy sobbing and taking breath, as he writhes about the legs of the master; " I won t read another time."
" Ah, you won t, sir won t you ? I don't mean you shall, sir," and the blows fall thick and fast, until the poor fellow crawls back, utterly crest-fallen and heart-sick, to sob over his books.
You grow into a sudden boldness : you wish you were only large enough to beat the master : you know such treatment would make you miserable : you shudder at the thought of it : you do not believe he would dare : you know the other boy has got no father. This seems to throw a new light upon the matter, but it only intensifies your indignation. You are sure that no father would suffer it; or if you thought so, it would sadly weaken your love for him. You pray Heaven that it may never be brought to such proof.
Let a boy once distrust the love or the tenderness of his parents, and the last resort of his yearning affections so far as the world goes is utterly gone. He is in the sure road to a bitter fate. His heart
