"Don't cry," began the judge. "Please don't. Perhaps you would like to
run out and play with my boy Tom?"

"I warn't cryin'," said the child. "It war a gnat."

His hand left his eyes and returned to his hat--a wide-brimmed harvest
hat, with a shoestring tied tightly round the crown.

When the judge spoke again it was with seriousness.

"Nicholas--your name is Nicholas, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"How old are you?"

"Twelve, sir."

"Can you read?"

"Yes, sir."

"Write?"

"Y-e-s, sir."

"Spell?"

The child hesitated. "I--I can spell--some."