head broken. D'ye come here to beard me in my own house? By George!
your impudence stupefies me, Sir. I tell you go this minute!"

But Abel continued:

"In your beautiful--"

"Don't dare to say it, Sir!" cried the old man, shaking his finger.

"Place," said Abel, quietly.

The old gentleman glared at him with a look of mixed surprise and
suspicion. But the boy wore the same look of candor. He held his cap in
his hand. His black hair fell around his handsome face. He was entirely
calm, and behaved in the most respectful manner.

"What do you mean, Sir?" said Christopher Burt, in great perplexity, as
he seated himself again, and drew a long breath.

"Simply, Sir, that I am very fond of sketching. My teacher says I draw
very well, and I have had a great desire to draw your place, but I did
not dare to ask permission. It is said in school, Sir, that you don't
like Mr. Gray's boys, and I knew nobody who could introduce me. But
to-day, as I came by, every thing looked so beautifully, and I was so
sure that I could make a pretty picture if I could only get leave to
come inside the grounds, that almost unconsciously I found myself coming
up the avenue and ringing the bell. That's all, Sir; and I'm sure I beg
your pardon for troubling you so much."

Mr. Burt listened to this speech with a pacified air. He was perhaps a