"I think we have some schoolbooks in the house. Some years ago we had a nephew stay with us, and go to school. I think his books are still in the closet."
"Thank you, ma'am. It'll save me buyin', and I haven't got any money to spare."
"We shall give you the same wages, Andrew, though you will work less."
"Thank you, ma'am. You're very kind."
"Try to improve your time in school, as becomes the great-grandson of such a distinguished orator."
"I'll try, ma'am," said Andy, looking a little queer at this allusion to the great Edmund Burke. In fact, he was ashamed of having deceived the kind old ladies, but didn't like now to own up to the deception lest they should lose confidence in him. But he determined hereafter to speak the truth, and not resort to deception.
The next morning, at twenty minutes of nine, Andy left the house provided with books, and joyfully took his way to the schoolhouse, which was a quarter of a mile distant. As he ascended the small hill on which it stood, he attracted the attention of a group of boys who had already arrived. Among them was his old adversary, Godfrey Preston.
"Is that Irish boy coming to school?" he said in a tone of disgust.
"What? Andy Burke? I hope so," said Charles Fleming, "he's a good fellow."
"He's only an Irish boy," said Godfrey, with a sneer.