"I'm sorry to hear that; what is the matter?"
"I've been CATCHING it," said Jim, in a whisper, coming close alongside of me. "A tea-stick as thick as my forefinger all over."—Here he entered into particulars, which, however harmless in themselves, were not of a sort usually written in books.
"That's a bad job," I said; "what was it for?"
"Why, I slipped off with Jerry to look after some colts on the black swamp, and was gone all the afternoon; and so Dad missed me; and when I got home didn't I CATCH IT! Oh lord, I'm all over blue wales; but that ain't the worst."
"What's the next misfortune?" I inquired.
"Why, when he got hold of me he said, 'Is this the first time you have been away with Jerry, sir?' and I said, 'Yes' (which was the awfullest lie ever you heard, for I went over to Barker's with him two days before); then he said, 'Well, I must believe you if you say so. I shall not disgrace you by making inquiries among the men;' and then he gave it to me for going that time, and since then I've felt like Cain and Abel for telling him such a lie. What would you do,—eh?"
"I should tell him all about it," I said.
"Ah, but then I shall catch it again, don't you see! Hadn't I better wait till these wales are gone down?"
"I wouldn't, if I were you," I answered; "I'd tell him at once."
"I wonder why he is so particular," said Jim; "the Delisles and the Donovans spend as much of their time in the huts as they do in the house."