fellow. If he goes to make you, we'll see who'll beat."

But the command was repeated, and Tip went forward, fixing his steady
eyes on Mr. Burrows as he spoke.

"Mr. Burrows, as sure as I live, I _did_ not throw that paper ball."

And yet--poor Tip!--he knew he would not be believed; he knew his word
could not be trusted; he knew he had often stood there and as boldly
declared what was _not_ true, and what had been proved in a few minutes
to be false.

No, nobody believed Tip. He had earned, among other things in the school,
the name of hardly ever speaking the truth; and now he must suffer for
it. So he stood still and received the swift, hard blows of the ruler on
his hands; stood without a tear or a promise. Mr. Burrows had not a doubt
of his guilt, for had not Ellis Holbrook, whose word was law in the
school, said he saw the mischief done? and did not Tip always deny all
knowledge of such matters until made to own them?

Still, this time the boy resolutely refused to confess that he had thrown
a bit of paper that day, and went back to his seat with smarting hands
and the stern words of his teacher ringing in his ears.

What a heavy, bitter heart the poor boy carried out from the schoolroom
that afternoon, he felt as though he almost hated every scholar
there,--_quite_ hated Ellis Holbrook.

Mr. Burrows, catching a glimpse of his face, said to one of the other
teachers, "That boy grows sullen; with all the rest, his good-nature was