“It’s the gipsy blood in him, I’m afraid,” said Uncle Richard.
“Yes, and I don’t know what to do with him.”
“A good washing wouldn’t be amiss.”
“No,” sighed the Vicar; “but he hates soap and water as much as he does work. What am I to do? The boy is on my conscience. He makes me feel as if all my teaching is vain, and I see him gradually developing into a man who, if he does what the boy has done, must certainly pass half his time in prison.”
“Yes, it is a problem,” said Uncle Richard. “Boys are problems. Troublesome young cubs, aren’t they, Tom?”
“Horrible, uncle,” said Tom dryly.
“But to begin with: a boy is a boy,” said the Vicar firmly, “and he has naturally the seeds of good and evil in him.”
“Pete Warboys had all the good left out of him,” said Uncle Richard.
“No, I deny that,” said the Vicar decisively.
“Well, I’ve seen him about for some time now, and I’ve never seen any of the good, Maxted.”