t Oswald, because Alice and Dora and Daisy
were all jumping about with the jumps of unstrained anguish, and saying,
"Oh, call them off! Do! do!--oh, don't, don't! Don't let them dig!"

Alas! Oswald was, as usual, right. The ground of the grave had not been
trampled down hard enough, and he had said so plainly at the time, but
his prudent counsels had been over-ruled. Now these busy-bodying,
meddling, mischief-making fox-terriers (how different from Pincher, who
minds his own business unless told otherwise) had scratched away the
earth and laid bare the reddish tip of the poor corpse's tail.

We all turned to go without a word, it seemed to be no use staying any
longer.

But in a moment the gentleman with the whiskers had got Noel and Dicky
each by an ear--they were nearest him. H. O. hid in the hedge. Oswald,
to whose noble breast sneakishness is, I am thankful to say, a stranger,
would have scorned to escape, but he ordered his sisters to bunk in a
tone of command which made refusal impossible.

[Illustration: "'WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?'"]

"And bunk sharp, too," he added sternly. "Cut along home."

So they cut.

The white-whiskered gentleman now encouraged his mangy fox-terriers, by
every means at his command, to continue their vile and degrading
occupation; holding on all the time to the ears of Dicky and Noel, who
scorned to ask for mercy. Dicky got purple and Noel got white. It was
Oswald who said:

"Don't hang on to them, sir. We won't cut. I give you my word of honor."

"_Your_ word of honor," said the gentleman, in tones for which, in
happier days, when people drew their bright blades and fought duels, I
would have had his heart's dearest blood. But now Oswald remained calm
and polite as ever.

"Yes, on my honor," he said, and the gentleman dropped the ears of
Oswald's brothers at the sound of his firm, unserving tones. He dropped
the ears and pulled out the body of the fox and held it up. The dogs
jumped up and yelled.

"Now," he said, "you talk very big about words of honor. Can you speak
the truth?"

Dicky said, "If you think we shot it, you're wrong. We know better than
that."

The white-whiskered one turned suddenly to H. O. and pulled him out of
the hedge.

"And what does that mean?" he said, and he was pink with fury to the
ends of his large ears, as he pointed to the card on H. O.'s breast,
which said, "Moat House Fox-Hunters."

Then Oswald said, "We _were_ playing at fox-hunting, but we