enough to escape, and ran out of
the room as fast as her four legs could carry her.

"Big ugly debble!" muttered Pomp, watching the blood ooze from his
finger.

"What's the matter, Pomp?"

"Old cat scratch me."

"And what did you do to her, Pomp? I am afraid you deserved your
scratch."

"Didn't do noffin', Mass' Frank," said Pomp virtuously.

"I don't think you always tell the truth, Pomp."

"Can't help it, Mass' Frank. 'Spec' I've got a little debble inside of
me."

"What do you mean, Pomp! What put that idea in your head?"

"Dat's what mammy says. Dat's what she al'ays tells me."

"Then," said Frank, "I think it will be best to whip it out of you.
Where's my stick?"

"Oh, no, Mass' Frank," said Pomp, in alarm; "I'll be good, for sure."

"Then sit down and get your lesson."

Again Pomp assumed his cricket. Before he had time to devise any new
mischief, Mrs. Frost came to the head of the stairs and called Frank.

Frank laid aside his books, and presented himself at the foot of the
stairs.

"I should like your help a few minutes. Can you leave your studies?"

"Certainly, mother."

Before going up, he cautioned Pomp to study quietly, and not get into
any mischief while he was gone. Pomp promised very readily.

Frank had hardly got upstairs before his pupil rose from the cricket,
and began to look attentively about him. His first proceeding was to,
hide his primer carefully in Mrs. Frost's work-basket, which lay on the
table. Then, looking curiously about him, his attention was drawn to the
old-fashioned clock that stood in the corner.

Now, Pomp's curiosity had been strongly excited by this clock. It was
not quite clear to him how the striking part was effected. Here seemed
to be a favorable opportunity for instituting an investigation. Pomp
drew his cricket to, the clock, and, opening it, tried to reach up to
the face. But he was not yet high enough. He tried a chair, and still
required a greater elevation. Espying Frank's Latin dictionary, he
pressed that into service.

By and by Frank and his mother heard the clock striking an unusual
number of times.

"What is the matter with the clock?" inquired Mrs. Frost.

"I don't know," said Frank unsuspiciously.

"It has struck ten times, and it is only four o' clock."

"I wonder if Pomp can have got at it," said Frank, with a sudden
thought.

He ran downstairs hastily.

Pomp heard him coming, and in his anxiety to escape detection, contrived