dignation, "Ha'e ye nae
humanity aboot ye at a'? Hit me if ye are goin' to hit any more. It's
murder, an' I'll no' stand ony longer an' let ye do it."

Geordie, surprised and amazed at her action, and the fierceness in her
voice, looked up, and immediately reason seemed to steal back into his
mind. A flush of shame overspread his face, and he sat down, burying his
face in his hands.

"Wheesht, sonny. Wheesht, my wee man," crooned the mother soothingly, as
she began to help Robert to get on his clothes, the tears falling still
from her own eyes, as she saw the ugly stripes and bruises upon his back
beginning to discolor. "Wheesht, sonny! Dinna' greet ony mair. There
noo', my wee son. Daddy's no' weel the nicht," she excused, "an' didna'
ken what he was doin'." Then breaking into a louder tone: "I wonder what
in Heaven's name puir folk are born for at a'. There noo'. There noo'.
Dinna greet, my wee man, an' mither'll gi'e ye yer denner."

Sinclair could stand it no longer, so slipping on his boots and
reaching for his cap, he went out, never in all his life feeling more
ashamed of himself.

Left to themselves--for all the other children were still out at
play--Nellie soon had Robert quietened and sitting at his dinner of cold
potatoes and buttermilk. Bit by bit she drew from him the story of the
fight at school; divining for herself the reason for Robert's attack
upon Peter Rundell, she soon was in possession of the whole story with
its termination of revolt against the headmaster and even the confession
of what he had written on the table.

"An' what did ye do wi' the tawse, son?" she enquired, her dark eyes
showing pride in the revolt of her laddie. She was proud to know that he
had sufficient character to stand up to a bully, even though he were a
headmaster.

"I buried them in the muir," he replied simply, "but I dinna' want to
tell naebody where they are. I'll never gi'e them back."

"Oh, weel, if ye dinna' want to tell me, dinna' do it," she said. "I'll
gang with ye to the school the morn, an' I'll see that ye're no' meddled
wi'. But, Robin, while I like to see ye staunin' up against what is
wrong, I dinna want ye to dae wrang yerself. An' I think ye was in the
wrang to strike Peter. He staggered against ye, an' I dinna think he wad
try to tramp on yer taes. An' always when ye're in the wrang, own up to
it, an' make what amends ye can."

Robin did not reply to this, but she could see that he knew she was
r