"Never saw you get
up so much pluck in my life. What made you back out, and be whipped
like a baby?"
"Why didn't _you_ own that you threw that plaguy paper ball, and not sit
there like a coward, and see me take your whipping?"
"_I_ own it! That's a good one! 'Pon honour, Tip, didn't you throw that
ball? I thought you did; I was aiming one at Ellis Holbrook's head just
then, and I didn't see what was going on behind me. Didn't you throw
it--honour bright?"
"No, I didn't; and I'll throw _you_ if you say so again."
And Tip turned suddenly in the opposite direction, but Satan still
walked with him.
"It's no use," said this evil spirit, speaking out boldly,--"it's no use;
don't you see it isn't? You might as well give it up first as last; the
boys, and the teacher, and every one, think you're nothing in the world
but a wicked young scamp, and you never _can_ be anything else. You've
been humbugging yourself these four weeks, making believe you had a great
Friend to help you: why hasn't He helped you to-day? You've tried your
best all day long, and He knows you have; yet you never had such a hard
day in your life.
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