contrived to coax Bob into a gentle trot, which he kept up till he came in
sight of Mr. Scott, when remembering what a story he had to relate of his
own mishaps, he slackened his pace, and began to feel very foolish and
unwilling to tell what had happened to him.

It is but justice to say, that, however unwilling he felt to have his
folly known, he never once thought of disguising the truth. He had been
too well taught for that. At the time when John's father was living, there
was no race of men, of any rank or country, that took more pains, (if
indeed so much,) as the Scottish peasantry did in instructing their
children, both in their moral and religious duties; and John had been
taught early, that the shadow of a lie was contrary to the duty of a
Christian, and that a child who, in the slightest degree, deceived his
parents, masters, or companions, would never merit or obtain the character
of an honest and just man. "Well, my lad," said Mr. Scott, after he had
heard his story, "I think you have got wonderfully well off, considering
your rash conduct; you should be thankful to Providence that you are alive
to relate it: I only hope it will be a warning to you never to be guilty
again of the like folly: so, cheer up, we will say no more about it, if
you promise to behave better the next time you are sent on an errand."
John said, what he very sincerely thought at the time, he would never
again try to wear spurs: he had had quite enough of them, and he hoped Mr.
Martin would not be very angry, or that would be the worst thing he had
met with yet, and what with the pony and the stilts, he had had quite
enough for one day.

Mr. Martin and Helen now came to meet them, for they had become seriously
alarmed for the boy: but when the disaster was related, Helen could not
refrain from laughing at the comical figure John must have made when
flying over Bob's head; and even Mr. Martin, though he tried to look