and see him whipped. One of the boys in the water said diplomatically,
"Aw, Mealy, I wouldn't take that!"

"You're another," faltered Mealy, who looked supplication and surprise
at his friends, and wondered if they were really going to desert him.
The new boy waded around Mealy, and leaned over him, and said, shaking
his fist in the freckled face, "You're a coward, and you don't dast
take it up and fight it out."

Mealy's cheeks flushed. He felt anger mantling his frame. He was one
of those most pitiable of mortals whose anger brings tears with it.
The last knot in the shirt was all but conquered, when Mealy bawled in
a scream of passionate sobs,--

"When I git this shirt fixed I'll show you who's a coward."

The new boy sought a level place on the bank for a fight, and sneered,
"Oh, cry baby! cry baby! Say, boys, where's its bottle?"

[Illustration: "_Say, boys, where's its bottle_?"]

Mealy rose with a stone in each hand, and hobbled over the pebbles,
trying, "Touch me now! Touch me if you dare!"

"Aw, you coward! drop them rocks," snarled the new boy.

Mealy looked at his friends imploringly. He felt lonely, deserted, and
mistreated, but he saw in the faces of his comrades the reflection of
the injunction to put down the stones. He did so, and his anger began
to cool. But he whimpered again, "Well now, touch me if you dare!"