carce in Breckonside school.
For as yet but few of the rewards had come our way. Of punishments
there was never any lack, as our skins well knew.

"Some rascals were in my garden last night," said Mr. Mustard, "to the
overturning of my potted geraniums. The size of his boot was a number
six, like what are sold at Provost Yarrow's shop. I will flog all the
boys with number six boots bought at The Shop, unless the culprit
confesses. Show boots."

We showed them, putting them, as commanded, on the wooden desks with a
clatter that made the ink leap in the dirty bottles. We did that on
purpose.

"Quiet, boys, till I compare them," said Mr. Mustard. "Stand out,
you--Tommy Bottle--you have on number six!"

Tommy Bottle dug his knuckles into his eyeholes and whined: "Please,
sir, I was----"

"Don't answer me, sir!" cried Mr. Mustard; "how dare you? Bring me the
long cane!"

"But, please, sir, I----"

"Thomas Bottle, your punishment is doubled!" shouted the master,
bringing the pointer down across Tommy's legs, as a kind of "lick and a
promise." He needn't. Tommy knew well enough what was coming.

"If you please, Mr. Mustard," I called out, "it was me that sold
Tommy's father that pair of boots this morning in my father's shop, so
Tommy couldn't have broken your flowerpots last night, with these boots
on his feet!"

"Eh, what!" cried the master, turning upon me; "well, Tommy is excused.
But the rest----"

The others provided with our sixes were, to wit, Frederick Allen, Widow
Allen's boy; Bob Grey, Eben Pringle, and Dorky Cobb--all poor boys.

But before punishment began I put my own before the master's eyes.
_They were number sixes_.

"If you punish Fred and Bob and Eben and Dorky, you must whip me, too,
Mr. Mustard," I said. "And I shall have to tell my father, and he
won't like it, because nobody will come any more to our shop to buy
boots, if they are to be punished for it at school!"

I always called him Mr. Mustard, because I was the only boy in the
school who dared do it, and I knew he hated it. But, you see, he was
afraid of my father. Most people in Breckonside were afraid of my
father.

So I got them off at that time; but presently the master welted Bob
Grey for making a noise, though he knew perfectly well it was I who had
done it. And the lesson was not over before he had got even with the
lot of them--Fred and Eben and Dorky and all--except me, of course.

I was always first on my b