f the theft, and the despoiled owner
entreats that the money may be returned. He protests that he has not
taken it. The matter comes to the ears of the house-master, who
investigates the matter in the course of the evening, and interviews
the supposed culprit. The boy denies it again quite unconcernedly and
frankly, goes away from the interview, and wandering about, finds the
small boys of the house assembled in one of the studies discussing a
matter with great interest. "What has happened?" says our suspected
friend. "Haven't you heard?" says one of them; "Campbell's grandmother"
(Campbell is another of the set) "has sent him a tip of L2." "Oh, has
she?" says the boy, with a smile of intense meaning; "I shall have to
go my rounds again." This astonishing confession of his guilt is
received with the interest it deserves, and Campbell is advised to lock
up his money, or to hand it over to the custody of the house-master. In
the course of the evening another amazing event occurs; the boy whose
money was stolen finds the whole of it, quite intact, in the pocket of
his cricketing flannels, where he now remembers having put it. The
supposed culprit is restored to favour, and becomes a reliable member
of society. One of the small boys tells the matron the story of our
hero's amazing remark on the subject, in his presence. The matron
stares at him, bewildered, and asks him what made him say it. "Oh, only
to rag them," says the boy; "they were all so excited about it." "But
don't you see, you silly boy," says the kind old dame, "that if the
money had not been found, you would have been convicted out of your own
mouth of having been the thief?" "Oh yes," says the boy cheerfully;
"but I couldn't help it--it came into my head."

Of course this is an exceptional case; but it illustrates a curious
thing about boys--I mentioned it the other day--which is, their
extraordinary willingness and even anxiety to be thought worse than
they are. Even boys of unexceptionable principle will talk as if they
were not only not particular, but positively vicious. They don't like
aspersions on their moral character to be made by others, but they
rejoice to blacken themselves; and not even the most virtuous boys can
bear to be accused of virtue, or thought to be what is called "Pi."
This does not happen when boys are by themselves; they will then talk
unaffectedly about their principles and practice, if their interlocutor
is also unaffected. But whe