John. Here, George, stop a minute; here’s bad news for you.
George. What’s the matter?—no school to-day?
John. School enough for you, I fancy. You have been getting the wrong lesson, after all.
George. O, John, John! don’t tell me so!
John. It’s true; and that sneaking fellow that sits whittling a stick, so mighty easy, he knew it yesterday, and would not tell you.
George. Oh, Peter! how could you do so?
Peter. Easily enough. I don’t see that I was under any obligation to help you to keep at the head of the class, when I am the next.
George. But you know you deceived me, Peter. I think it would have been but kind and fair to tell me my mistake, as soon as you found it out; but, instead of that, you said things that made me quite sure I was right about the lesson.
Peter. But I did not tell you so; you can’t say I told you so. Nobody ever caught me in a lie.
John. But you will lie;—you will come to that yet, if you go on so.