"You don't know, Robert!—tell me the truth—I shall not be angry with you, child—You will only lose the milk at supper; and as for the basin, I would rather have you break all the basins I have, than tell me one lie.—So don't tell me a lie.—I ask you, Robert, did you break the basin?"
"No, ma'am, I did not," said Robert; and he coloured as red as fire.
"Then, where's Frank?—did he do it?"
"No mother, he did not," said Robert; for he was in hopes, that when Frank came in, he should persuade him to say that he did not do it.
"How do you know," said his mother, "that Frank did not do it?"
"Because—because—because, ma'am," said Robert, hesitating, as liars do for an excuse—"because I was in the room all the time, and I did not see him do it."
"Then how was the basin thrown down? If you have been in the room all the time, you can tell."
Then Robert, going on from one lie to another, answered,
"I suppose the dog must have done it."—
"Did you see him do it?" says his mother.