“I’ve got to draw the line somewhere,” said William’s father to William’s mother the next evening. “I suppose I’ve got to pay my share for all the damage the quadruped did in the laboratory, but I don’t see that I need re-stock the vicar’s garden. As far as I can make out his own wife took the creature there. Well, I’ve taken everything I can think of from William and done everything I can think of to him—it’s against the law to drown him or I’d do that and be done with it——”
“Poor William,” murmured his wife, “he means well—and such a lot of people say he’s like you.”
“He isn’t,” said his father indignantly, “I’m more or less sane, and he’s a raving lunatic. He can’t possibly be like me. Do I go about turning donkeys into labs. and for no reason at all? Do I—Nonsense!”
“Never mind, dear. He goes to school to-morrow,” said his wife soothingly.
“Thank heaven!” said Mr. Brown quite reverently.
******
Outside in the summer-house sat the Outlaws.
“It’s simply no use explainin’ to them,” William was saying. “They sort of won’t listen to you. They go on as if we’d meant to break all of his ole glass things. Well, how were we to know his aunt was ill? I said that to them but they wun’t take any notice. ’S almost funny,” he ended bitterly, “the way they blame us for everything—took my bow an’ arrow an’ airgun an’ money an’ everythin’ off me just as if we hadn’t been tryin’ to do good all the time. An’ no one does anythin’ to that old donkey. Oh, no! It was all its fault but no one does anything to it. Oh, no.”
“An’ we go to school to-morrow,” added Ginger, gloomily.
“Never mind,” said William with rising spirits, “we’ve done all the sorts of things you can do in holidays an’—an’ after all, there’s quite a lot of excitin’ things you can do in school.”