"Johnnie, my boy, shake hands, I forgive you this once.

And you may pass the bottle." Johnnie, who knew himself to be the real offender, made haste to obey.
"It's not blacking, of course," continued John, looking at the thick liquor with distrust.
"The betht black currant," exclaimed his heir, "at thirteen-penth a bottle." "And where's Cray ?" exclaimed John, suddenly observing the absence of his young guest.
"He's down in the kitchen, dishing up the pudding," said Barbara blushing, and she darted out of the room, and presently returned, other footsteps following hers.
"Cray," exclaimed John, as the boy seemed inclined to linger outside, "don't stand there in the draught.

And so it is not by your virtuous inclinations that you have hitherto been excluded from this festive scene ?" "No, sir," said Crayshaw with farcical meekness of voice and air, "quite the contrary.

It was that I've met with a serious accident.

I've been run over." John looked aghast.