"You surely have not been into the loose-box," he said anxiously.
"Oh no, father, nothing of the sort," said Barbara.

"It was only that he was down in the kitchen on his knees, and two blackbeetles ran over his legs.

You should never believe a word he says, father." "But that was the reason the pudding came to grief," continued Crayshaw; "they were very large and fierce, and in my terror I let it fall, and it was squashed.

When I saw their friends coming on to fall upon it, I was just about to cry, 'Take it all, but spare my life!' when Barbara came and rescued me.

I hope," he went on, yet more meekly, "I hope it was not an unholy self-love that prompted me to prefer my life to the pudding!" The children laughed, as they generally did when Crayshaw spoke, but it was more at his manner than at his words.