is act, perhaps he thought
that the falling book would only frighten the bird, which would fly away
and save itself. We cannot bear to suppose that, ill-tempered as he
was, he could have meditated the destruction of his gentle sister's
little favourite. People often do not consider the sad results of their
evil temper and bad conduct.
The book fell directly on poor little Pecksy. Fanny gave a cry of grief
and terror.
"Oh, what have you done, Norman!" she exclaimed, as she saw his face
just above the chair, with an expression, oh how different to what she
could have supposed that of her little brother could wear.
He did not utter a word, but gazed intently at the book. She lifted it
up. There lay her dear little Pecksy motionless. She took the bird up
in her hands, examining it anxiously, while the tears fell fast from her
eyes.
Norman, conscience-stricken for the first time in his life, could not
bear to look at her any longer, and rushed out of the room.
"Oh, what have I done! what have I done!" he exclaimed; "it cannot be
dead! the book was not so very big--that could not have killed it all in
a moment."
He was afraid of meeting anybody, and he hurried out into the grounds.
At first he ran very fast, supposing that some one would come after him,
then finding that he was not pursued, he went at a slower pace. On
reaching the woods he turned off the path and plunged into them to hide
himself. First he crouched down beneath some thick bushes, thinking
that no one would discover him there, but he felt too uncomfortable to
stay long quiet--he must keep moving on. Slowly he made his way through
the woods. He thought he heard footsteps. He tried to push deeper into
the woods. On and on he went--he tore his clothes, and scratched his
face and hands, he did not know where he was going, he did not care--
provided he could keep out of the way of everybody. Never before had he
been so miserable, his feelings at last became intolerable.
"Perhaps after all the bird is not dead," he thought.
The idea brought him some relief. "I must go back and try and find
out," he said to himself. "If I hear Fanny crying, and making a noise,
I will run off again. I could not face mamma and granny and the rest of
them if they were to know that I had killed Fanny's bird."
To his surprise, as he went on through the woods, he suddenly saw the
house directly before him. He ran towards it. He met the gardener,
who,
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