the only good thing which he had about him, and he is losing that."

Tip heard him, and felt that it was true. He had been punished many a
time before, and taken it with the most provoking good humour. But to-day
it was different; to-day, for the first time in his life, he had received
a punishment which he did not deserve; this day of all others, in which
he had tried with all his heart to do right!

"Why didn't you hold on, you simpleton?" Bob asked. "Never saw you get
up so much pluck in my life. What made you back out, and be whipped
like a baby?"

"Why didn't _you_ own that you threw that plaguy paper ball, and not sit
there like a coward, and see me take your whipping?"

"_I_ own it! That's a good one! 'Pon honour, Tip, didn't you throw that
ball? I thought you did; I was aiming one at Ellis Holbrook's head just
then, and I didn't see what was going on behind me. Didn't you throw
it--honour bright?"

"No, I didn't; and I'll throw _you_ if you say so again."

And Tip turned suddenly in the opposite direction, but Satan still
walked with him.

"It's no use," said this evil spirit, speaking out boldly,--"it's no use;
don't you see it isn't? You might as well give it up first as last; the
boys, and the teacher, and every one, think you're nothing in the world
but a wicked young scamp, and you never _can_ be anything else. You've
been humbugging yourself these four weeks, making believe you had a great