be annulled, and all his
kindness cancelled, by a reckless deed of that sort. It was true (as
Annie insisted continually, even with tears, to wear in her arguments)
that Tom had not brought away anything, except the warrants, which were
of no use at all, after receipt of the pardon; neither had he used any
violence, except just to frighten people; but could it be established,
even towards Christmas-time, that Tom had a right to give alms, right
and left, out of other people's money?

Dear Annie appeared to believe that it could; saying that if the rich
continually chose to forget the poor, a man who forced them to remember,
and so to do good to themselves and to others, was a public benefactor,
and entitled to every blessing. But I knew, and so Lizzie knew--John Fry
being now out of hearing--that this was not sound argument. For, if it
came to that, any man might take the King by the throat, and make him
cast away among the poor the money which he wanted sadly for Her Grace
the Duchess, and the beautiful Countess, of this, and of that. Lizzie,
of course, knew nothing about His Majesty's diversions, which were not
fit for a young maid's thoughts; but I now put the form of the argument
as it occurred to me.

Therefore I said, once for all (and both my sisters always listened when
I used the deep voice from my chest):

"Tom Faggus hath done wrong herein; wrong to himself, and to our Annie.
All he need have done was to show his pardon, and the magistrates would
have rejoiced with him. He might have led a most godly life, and have
been respected by everybody; and knowing how brave Tom is, I thought
that he would have done as much. Now if I were in love with a maid"--I
put it thus for the sake of poor Lizzie--"never would I so imperil my
life, and her fortune in life along with me, for the sake of a poor
diversion. A man's first duty is to the women, who are forced to hang
upon him"--

"Oh, John, not that horrible word," cried Annie, to my great surprise,
and serious interruption; "oh, John, any word but that!" And she burst
forth crying terribly.

"What word, Lizzie? What does the wench mean?" I asked, in the saddest
vexation; seeing no good to ask Annie at all, for she carried on most
dreadfully.

"Don't you know, you stupid lout?" said Lizzie, completing my
wonderment, by the scorn of her quicker intelligence; "if you don't
know, axe about?"

And with that, I was forced to be content; for Lizzie took Annie in such