Albert’s uncle said—and his voice made Oswald hot all over, but not with shame—he said—
I shall not tell you what he said. It is no one’s business but Oswald’s; only I will own it made Oswald not quite so anxious to run away for a soldier as he had been before.
That owning up was the hardest thing I ever did. They did put that in the Book of Golden Deeds, though it was not a kind or generous act, and did no good to anyone or anything except Oswald’s own inside feelings. I must say I think they might have let it alone. Oswald would rather forget it. Especially as Dicky wrote it in and put this:
‘Oswald acted a lie, which, he knows, is as bad as telling one. But he owned up when he needn’t have, and this condones his sin. We think he was a thorough brick to do it.’
Alice scratched this out afterwards and wrote the record of the incident in more flattering terms. But Dicky had used Father’s ink, and she used Mrs Pettigrew’s, so anyone can read his underneath the scratching outs.
The others were awfully friendly to Oswald, to show they agreed with Albert’s uncle in thinking I deserved as much share as anyone in any praise there might be going.
It was Dora who said it all came from my quarrelling with Noel about that rotten cricket ball; but Alice, gently yet firmly, made her shut up.
I let Noel have the ball. It had been thoroughly soaked, but it dried all right. But it could never be the same to me after what it had done and what I had done.
I hope you will try to agree with Albert’s uncle and not think foul scorn of Oswald because of this story. Perhaps you have done things nearly as bad yourself sometimes. If you have, you will know how ‘owning up’ soothes the savage breast and alleviates the gnawings of remorse.
If you have never done naughty acts I expect it is only because you never had the sense to think of anything.