" BOB " 137 



liiul Hown away. Closer inspection then showed fresh earth smeared 

 on the coop, and the removal of the earth revealed shot holes, and 

 then, " What have you done with that 'en ? " 



" What 'en ? I ain't seed no 'en. I only ..." etc., ut supra. 



The situation is not unlike that of George Washington, who 

 when confronted with the maimed cherry-tree said : " Father, I cannot 

 lie " (or words to that effect), " I did it with my little axe." But Bob 

 did not reach to such heights of self-accusing veracity ; he stood 

 rather on the rights of a Briton in the dock, where no man is 

 bound to incriminate himself. 



" If you'll show me where you've put that 'en, I won't 'it yer," 

 promises his father. Here was a point at which it appeared prudent 

 to plead guilty. So, having guarantee of safe-conduct. Bob led the 

 way to the ditch, where he crawled as slowly as possible under the 

 brambles. " I wanted to get the 'en out, you see, sir, without lettin' 

 'im see nuthin' o' no pheasants." Gradually the hen came out, and 

 alas, a pheasant chick was entangled in her feathers, so the whole 

 black truth was made patent by habeas corpus. Then the deluge. 

 He was granted immunity on production of the hen, but this did not 

 cover six young pheasants. So corporal punishment was followed 

 l)y two days' confinement to quarters without even bread and water. 

 Which proves again that honesty is the best policy. No man is 

 bound to incriminate himself, but if he finds it policy to do so in hope 

 of a mitigation of sentence it is better to make a clean breast of it at 

 once rather than to plead half guilty. Don't admit the hen and deny 

 the chickens. This tale has a sequel. 



Under stress of confinement and hunger it is hardly surprising 

 that bad boy Bob became desperate, and with the aid of his brother 

 planned a night attack on the larder, where they had discovered 

 a most beautiful and tempting pot of clear greengage jam. Having 

 secured this and taken it upstairs it was for Bob to have the first 

 spoonful. At this point in the narrative he lapsed into pantomime ; 

 his head was thrown back, his eyes screwed up with anticipation, 

 and his lips protruded as if to suck the delicious jam from an 

 imaginary spoon. He then made the motion of putting the spoon 

 into his mouth, and the form of liis visage changed. " And then I 



