inhabitant of these wild woods, coming from the darkest and tallest of
the fir-trees. Then he saw his father approaching along the garden
walk.

One more chance for thee, unhappy man. Go up to him now, and tell him
all. He has been a kind father to you, with all his faults. Get him on
your side, and you may laugh Lee to scorn. Have you not the courage to
tell him?

For a moment he hesitated, but the dread of his father's burst of anger
kept him silent. He hardened his heart, and, whistling, waited for the
old man to come up.

"How is he this morning?" said his father. "What has he got his old
clothes on for, and such fine ones as he has in his drawer?"

"Why should I put on my best clothes this day, father?"

"Aint'ee going down to revils?"

"True," said George. "I had forgotten all about it. Yes; I shall go
down, of course."

"Are you going to play (wrestle)?" asked the father.

"Maybe I may. But come in to breakfast. Where's Madge?"

"In-doors," said the father, "waiting breakfast--mortal cross."

"Curse her crossness," said George. "If I were ye, dad, I'd kick her