hiteness could never, never
be restored!

He would always be the boy who had sat in the stocks! And the words
uttered by the squire came back on his soul, like the voice of
conscience in the ears of some doomed Macbeth: "A sad disgrace,
Lenny,--you'll never be in such a quandary." "Quandary"--the word was
unfamiliar to him; it must mean something awfully discreditable. The
poor boy could have prayed for the earth to swallow him.

CHAPTER VIII.

"Kettles and frying-pans! what has us here?" cried the tinker.

This time Mr. Sprott was without his donkey; for it being Sunday, it
is presumed that the donkey was enjoying his Sabbath on the common.
The tinker was in his Sunday's best, clean and smart, about to take his
lounge in the park.

Lenny Fairfield made no answer to the appeal.

"You in the wood, my baby! Well, that's the last sight I should
ha' thought to see. But we all lives to larn," added the tinker,
sententiously. "Who gave you them leggins? Can't you speak, lad?"

"Nick Stirn."

"Nick Stirn! Ay, I'd ha' ta'en my davy on that: and cos vy?"

"'Cause I did as he told me, and fought a boy as was trespassing on
these very stocks; and he beat me--but I don't care for that; and that
boy was a young gentleman, and going to visit the squire; and so Nick
Stirn--" Lenny stopped short, choked by rage and humiliation.

"Augh," said the tinker, starting, "you fit with a young gentleman, did
you? Sorry to hear you confess that, my lad! Sit there and be thankful
you ha' got off so cheap. 'T is salt and battery to fit with your
betters, and a Lunnon justice o' peace would have given you two months
o' the treadmill.

"But vy should you fit cos he trespassed on the stocks? It ben't your
natural side for fitting, I takes it."

Lenny murmured something not very distinguishable about serving the
squire, and doing as he was bid.

"Oh, I sees, Lenny," interrupted the tinker, in a tone of great
contempt, "you be one of those who would rayther 'unt with the 'ounds
than run with the 'are! You be's the good pattern boy, and would peach
agin your own border to curry favour with the grand folks. Fie, lad! you
be sarved right; stick by your border, then you'll be 'spected when you
gets into trouble, and not be 'varsally 'spised,--as you'll be arter
church-time! Vell, I can't be seen 'sorting with you, now you are in
this d'rogotary fix; it might hurt my c'r'acter, both with them as built
the stocks and them as wants to p