"Have I not often told thee," I demanded, as much in sorrow as in anger, "thou must not fight? Would couldst see thyself now to know how much like the beasts we become when we stoop to fight and tear each other asunder."
Still he said, but less defiantly, "He began 't, I tell thee."
"Art thou not sorry for breaking his nose?" I asked.
"Nay, he began 't; I had to fight. He hath been calling me names and trying to stir up a quarrel. Now he hath what he looked for."
"Couldst thou not have left him? Thou hast legs to carry thee," I reminded him.
But he only replied more firmly, "I'm glad I beat him, and that right well. He will trouble me no more."
And then as I took him by the hand and we were about to go to our cells I noticed within a few steps one of the little girls who had formed part of the frightened group in the background. She seemed about my boy's age, perhaps a trifle younger, with such deep blue eyes and long yellow hair, I thought of our Sister Bernice, only that our poor sister was never so rosy-cheeked and strong looking as this pretty little maid standing timidly nigh, and finally bursting into a plaintive appeal, "Don't whip him, Brother Jabez, it was Johann's own fault." Johann I suppose being the name of the still fleeing one.
"And why should I not punish Sonnlein for fighting, my little sister?" I asked gently.
"Because," she replied falteringly, and I could see her face was red as fire.
"'Because' may be reason sufficient for little girls, but not for big men," I replied still gently.