"He has earned his name!" somebody said, laughing. "O, Tricksy, Tricksy! We can never say you ought to be called 'Noble' any more."
But what do you think Robbie did? Instead of being delighted with the sharpness of his dear old dog, he burst into tears.
"Why, Robbie!" mamma said. "What is the matter?"
Then Robbie wailed forth his heart-breaking question:
"Was it wicked, mamma? Tricksy didn't know any better; he is only a dog."
"Of course it was wicked!" Nelson declared in his most teasing tone. "My good little Noble wouldn't think of doing such a cheating thing."
NOBLE.
Whether mamma wanted to comfort Robbie or whether she thought Nelson needed the lesson; or whether it was a little of both reasons that made her speak just then, I will not stop to tell you, but what she said was:
"He may have been led astray by bad example. I wonder if it can be possible that he saw a boy take his slate and book under his arm yesterday and walk towards the stairs as if he were going to the library to study, then dodge out at the side door, hide his books under a rose-bush, and run off to play marbles with the boys?"