My Boyhood and Youth 



let go of him, for as soon as we opened the win- 

 dow and held him over the sill he knew his 

 danger and made violent efforts to scratch and 

 bite his way back into the room; but we de- 

 termined to carry the thing through, and at last 

 managed to drop him. I can remember to this 

 day how the poor creature in danger of his life 

 strained and balanced as he was falling and 

 managed to alight on his feet. This was a cruel 

 thing for even wild boys to do, and we never 

 tried the experiment again, for we sincerely 

 pitied the poor fellow when we saw him creep- 

 ing slowly away, stunned and frightened, with 

 a swollen black and blue chin. 



Again — showing the natural savagery of 

 boys — we delighted in dog-fights, and even in 

 the horrid red work of slaughter-houses, often 

 running long distances and climbing over walls 

 and roofs to see a pig killed, as soon as we heard 

 the desperately earnest squealing. And if the 

 butcher was good-natured, we begged him to let 

 us get a near view of the mysterious insides and 

 to give us a bladder to blow up for a foot-ball. 



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