‘That was when he’d been out. They said he’d been at the gin-shop; but he used to be downright savage,’ said Paul. ‘At last he never thought it worth while to teach any lessons but mine, and I used to hear the other classes; but the inspector came all on a sudden, and found it out one day when he’d hit a little lad so that his nose was bleeding, and so he was sent off.’
‘How long ago was this?’
‘Going on for a year,’ said Paul.
‘Didn’t the inspector want you to go to a training-school?’ said Alfred.
‘Yes; but the Guardians wouldn’t hear of it.’
‘Did you wish it?’ asked Mr. Cope.
‘I liked my liberty, Sir,’ was the answer; and Paul looked down.
‘Well, and what you do think now you’ve tried your liberty?’
Paul didn’t make any answer, but finding that good-humoured face still waiting, he said slowly, ‘Why, Sir, it was well-nigh the worst of all to find I was getting as stupid as the cows.’
Mr. Cope laughed, but not so as to vex him; and added, ‘So that was the way you learnt to be a reader, Paul. Can you tell me what books you used to read to this master?’