Two falsehoods? Yes, indeed! Didn't he say to his mother, "I'm coming right away," and go on with his work that she had directed him to leave? Didn't he tell the teacher he "hadn't time," when the truth would have been that he chose to take the time which belonged to the arithmetic for something else?
White and clean! Oh, yes, that is what the dogs were; clean as to their consciences for that matter, if they had any; for I believe they acted as well as they knew how all that day. But how was it with Chester's heart?
["BOY WANTED."]
PEOPLE laughed when they saw the sign again. It seemed to be always in Mr. Peters' window. For a day or two, sometimes for only an hour or two, it would be missing, and passers-by would wonder whether Mr. Peters had at last found a boy to suit him; but sooner or later, it was sure to appear again.
"What sort of a boy does he want, anyway?" one and another would ask. And then they would say to each other, that they supposed he was looking for a perfect boy, and in their opinion, he would look a good while before he found one. Not that there were not plenty of boys—as many as a dozen used sometimes to appear in the course of a morning, trying for the situation. Mr. Peters was said to be rich and boys were very anxious to try to suit him. "All he wants is a fellow to run of errands; it must be easy work and sure pay." This was the way they talked to each other. But Mr. Peters wanted more than a boy to run of errands. John Simmons found that out, and this was the way he did it. He had been engaged that very morning, and had been kept busy all the forenoon, at pleasant enough work, and although he was a lazy fellow, he rather enjoyed the place.
It was towards the middle of the afternoon that he was sent up to the attic, a dark, dingy place, inhabited by mice and cobwebs.
"You will find a long deep box there," said Mr. Peters, "that I want to have put in order. It stands right in the middle of the room, you can't miss it."
John looked doleful. "A long deep box, I should think it was!" he told himself, as the attic door closed after him. "It would weigh most a ton, I guess; and what is there in it? Nothing in the world but old nails, and screws, and pieces of iron, and broken keys and things; rubbish, the whole of it! Nothing worth touching, and it is as dark as a pocket up here, and cold, besides; how the wind blows in through those knotholes! There's a mouse! If there is any thing that I hate, it's mice! I'll tell you what it is, if old Peters thinks I'm going to stay up here and tumble over his rusty nails, he's much mistaken. I wasn't hired for that kind of work."
Whereupon John bounced down the attic stairs, three at a time, and was found lounging in the show window, half an hour afterwards, when Mr. Peters appeared.
"Have you put that box in order already?" was the gentleman's question.