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AT THE FARM 113 



when at last the hghts were put out and all was 

 quiet, I jumped gaily upon the bed of Rosy-cheeks, 

 and — and — I bit him through the fleshy part of his 

 ear. He awoke with a howl, and I fled for dear 

 life. That is my confession, and you may think, 

 after hearing it, that Billy's tale of horrors had 

 some foundation of truth. But I assure you — 

 upon my honour I assure you — that while I 

 listened to the talk of the children in the straw 

 I was as innocent as the babe unborn. No taste 

 of human flesh had ever defiled my lips, and I felt 

 no pricks of conscience, only righteous indignation, 

 as that young ruffian Billy piled up his tale of 

 atrocities. If ever I wanted to bite a boy, it was then. 



But Betty, my sweet little rogue Betty, w^ould 

 hardly listen to anything which might bring her 

 * jolly rat' into danger or discredit. She was so 

 convinced of my innocence that I almost made a 

 vow never to get into mischief again. I suppose 

 that I did not do so because 1 really was not 

 conscious of any special wickedness which could be 

 laid at my doors. It is not easy to be sorry for 

 what you have never done or thought of doing, and 

 one wants to keep one's vows for the really big 

 occasions. If there is one thing more than another 

 that I dislike about boys, it is their way of getting 



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