in my countenance when he placed himself opposite me
with his cane in his hand.

"You have been very rude to me in speaking defiantly of your
house-master. Do you understand?"

There was no alternative for me but to say "Yes, sir." The answer
came huskily. I was annoyed that my voice sounded hoarse.

"Put out your hand."

I obeyed, stretching out my right hand as far as I could and
displaying no perturbation, though I was wondering what it would be
like to be caned on the hand. This was one of Radley's surprises,
and he followed it with one of his brutal remarks:

"Put that right hand down. You'll need it to be in good condition
for writing your lines. Put up your left."

I held out my left hand. The cane sang in the air and whistled on to
my open palm. A spasm of pain passed up my arm, my hand closed
convulsively, my elbow drooped, and that vast array of tears made a
tremendous effort to carry everything before them. But with all the
strength at my command I got the better of them. Angry at having
closed my hand, I extended the scorching palm again, and, very pale
and trembling perceptibly, looked with set features straight at
Radley.

He threw the cane away and, sitting on the edge of his table, took
hold of the hand that he had struck and drew me towards him.

"Don't you think, Ray, that you, who can take a licking so pluckily,
ought to face bad luck in a less cowardly fashion than you have this
afternoon? You'll meet worse things than lines before you're ten
years older; and, Ray, I want you always to face your fate, whatever
it may be, as you faced my cane--teeth set, no wincing."

It was a stroke of master play. His gentleness, following
immediately upon his severity, burst the dam. His words were an
"Open Sesame" to the leaky floodgates I had held so tightly closed.
I hung my head and the huge throng of tears broke forth. Wo-ho, what
a cascade! My eyes overflowed with salt tears and my nose wanted
wiping. Oh, waly, waly. Radley seemed indisposed to let go of my
left hand, so I was compelled to search for my handkerchief with my
right. After sounding the depths of four pockets, I found it, a
singularly dirty one, in the fifth. And, while great internal sobs
shook my frame with the regularity of minute-guns, Radley spoke so
nicely that I determined I would be everything he wanted, a really
beautiful character--always providing that it didn't interfere with
my war with Fillet. For one day--one great and