“No, I didn’t,” answered Andrew without a blush.
“How can you tell such a lie?” said Bill indignantly.
“Mr. Badger, will you allow this young ruffian to accuse your own son of falsehood?” cried the mother.
“Did you have a whip in your hand, Andrew?” asked his father.
Andrew hesitated a moment, but finally thought it best to say he did.
“Did you strike Bill with it?”
“No.”
“You see how candid the poor boy is,” said his mother. “He tells you that he had a whip in his hand, though many boys would have denied it. But my Andrew was always truthful.”
Even Andrew felt a little embarrassed at this undeserved tribute to a virtue in which he knew that he was very deficient.
“Bill Benton,” said Mr. Badger sternly, “it appears that you have not only made an atrocious assault on my son, but lied deliberately about it. You shall have neither dinner nor supper, and to-night I will give you a flogging. Now, go back to your work!”