“Mighty plucky thing,” he said. “Great nerve,” and he lapsed into silence, while Fusie could not contain himself, but danced from one foot to the other with excited exclamations.
The minister had come out intending, as he said, “to teach that boy a lesson that he would remember,” but as he listened to Hughie's story, his anger gave place to a great thankfulness.
“It was a great mercy, my boy,” he said at length, when he was quite sure of his voice, “that you had Fido with you.”
“Yes, indeed, father,” said Hughie. “It was Fido saved me.”
“It was the Lord's goodness,” said the minister, solemnly.
“And a great mercy,” said Long John, “that your lad kept his head and showed such courage. You have reason to be proud of him.”
The minister said nothing just then, but at home, when recounting the exploit to the mother, he could hardly contain his pride in his son.
“Never thought the boy would have a nerve like that, he's so excitable. I had rather he killed that bear than win a medal at the university.”
The mother sat silent through all the story, her cheek growing more and more pale, but not a word did she say until the tale was done, and then she said, “'Who delivereth thee from destruction.'”
“A little like David, mother, wasn't it?” said Hughie; but though there was a smile on his face, his manner and tone were earnest enough.