Each man who fired at the mark, paid a trifling sum for the privilege, and was entitled to the fowl, if he killed it.
Oscar and his young companions lingered around the grounds for an hour or two, familiarizing themselves with scenes of shameful cruelty, and breathing an atmosphere loaded with pollution and moral death.

The repugnance which Oscar at first felt to the party and its doings was so far overcome, that before he left he himself fired one or two shots, with a rifle which was lent to him.
Oscar reached home before the hour for dinner.

As he entered the sitting-room, his mother, who had missed him, inquired where he had been all the forenoon.
"I 've been with Alf," he replied.
His mother did not notice this evasion of her question, but added: "Why do you want to be with Alfred so much?
It seems to me you might find better company.

I 'm afraid he is not so good a boy as he might be.

I don't like his looks very much." "Why, mother," said Oscar, "Alf is n't a bad boy, and I never heard anybody say he was.