The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. At last, he got into a lane, but had not proceeded far when he was again alarmed by the sound of a horse's tread. It’s the only clean way for us. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. “Umph!” he said, and regarded his letter doubtfully before consigning it to the pillar-box. Only promise me to amend—to quit your vile companions—and I will forgive you—will bless you.
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