Frankie was a proud boy; that is, he would not like anybody to know that he had been punished, and was crying for it; but he didn't mind telling his troubles to Tony.
"It was real mean of the master," he began, "to ferule me for just saying one word. Sam Lambert asked me to lend him my new ball; and I said it was at home. Master punished me; but Sam got nothing but praise."
Tony had the poor, swollen hand now, and was kissing it with all her might.
"Well," Frankie went on, "after all, I had rather have a good whipping every day, than to lie as Sam does. The master will find him out some time; and if he don't, God sees him. I'd be afraid ever to go to sleep, if I was such a liar."
They were now nearly home, and Frankie concluded to wet his handkerchief at the pump and wipe his eyes before he presented himself in the parlor.
Tony stood by, looking very wishful; and then they went in together. During all the intermission, Tony did not leave her master a minute; but watched him closely, every now and then standing on her hind feet to lick his hand.
When the boy started to go to school, she held the skirt of his coat in her mouth as if she were afraid he would be hurt again.
"Frankie Colvin, you may walk up to the desk," called out the master, when all the boys had taken their seats.
Poor Frankie began to tremble, but instantly obeyed.
"Samuel Lambert, take your place by his side."