rough the night. The dinner bell rang and Miss Borden
insisted the guest must go down to dinner and she would stay with the
children.

"We're having our dinner a little late this evening on account of a
guest; otherwise I would accept. I can stay half an hour longer. Then
if you won't mind my coming around about nine to hear the doctor's
verdict."

"Oh, you are very sympathetic. Thank you. I only hope Marilla won't
have a bad time as she did last summer. Why she's never fainted
since."

Jack behaved beautifully at the table. No one spoke of the fight. But
he kept up a shivery thought of wondering if the ball he had thrown at
Marilla had really hurt her. It wasn't a hard ball, at least not as
hard as they had sometimes in the street.

No one appeared very hungry. Mrs. Borden went up to look after Aunt
Hetty who seemed disinclined to talk and only wanted a cup of tea. Mr.
Borden looked at Marilla who had fallen asleep. Then he went through
to the other room and took Jack on his knee.

"Now let's hear about the fight," he said, but his voice didn't seem
very stern.

Jack really wanted to cry. He felt sort of bruised and beaten though
he had knocked down his adversary and would have stamped on him if his
mother had not appeared at that moment and carried him off.

"Well, you see"--and the boy winked very hard.

"Who begun it?"

"Why, that Patsy's a reg'lar bum! He's called me names--he plays
hookey too, and he tried to trip me up and I give him a left-hander,
and he called me a stinking pup and ever so many nasty names and then
we went at it. Papa, you may strap me if you want to, but if I hadn't
fit the boys would have made fun of me and called me sissy, and we
went at it like fury. He made my nose bleed, and I guess I gave him a
black eye; and I kicked his shins--he's got fat legs. He's just a
bounder and teacher said he'd wind up in the reform school. I just
wish he would!" with an angry zest.

"How do boys learn such shocking talk?" asked Aunt Florence, "When
they never hear it at home, and as for fighting--"

"It is in the outside air and perhaps like measles runs through
boyhood. Jack, I want you to stand up for yourself though I don't
admire street fights."

"But I won't be called nasty names, and he said I was a sneak of a
devil--"

"Try and keep out of the way of such boys. But if you _must_ fight
stand up to it boldly. I think you didn't get the worst of it, but I
guess it's good your mother cam