g exactly
what to do with himself.

"If I had my football I might kick it about, and have some fun," he
thought, "no one has taken the trouble to mend it. I should think
Fanny, who is so nimble with her fingers as granny says, might have done
so. I must have a game at battledore and shuttlecock, I can play that
alone."

He went into the drawing-room to get one of the battledores, which were
kept in an Indian cabinet. No sooner had he opened the door than his
eye fell on Miss Lucy, seated in a large arm-chair, where Fanny, who had
brought her down to try on a new frock which her mamma had made, had
incautiously left her.

"You are there, are you!" said Norman, slowly approaching, "you look as
if you were laughing at me. I should like to know what business Fanny
has with you, when I have not my football to play with."

He stopped for a minute or more, looking at the doll with his fists
clenched; and instead of trying to drive away the evil thought which had
entered his mind, took a pleasure in encouraging it. Still, he did not
touch the doll. "I will carry you out, and hide you in a bush, where
Fanny cannot find you," he muttered.

Then he thought that he must take out a battledore and shuttlecock and
play with it, or what he proposed doing would be suspected. He went to
the cabinet, and opening it, there he saw on an upper shelf the very
knife with which he had made the hole in his football.

A dreadful idea seized him, he took the knife and advanced with it
towards poor Miss Lucy. Dragging her from the chair, he threw her on
the ground and began to cut away at her wax neck with his knife. As the
chief part of the edge was blunted, he did not at first make much
impression; but, drawing it rapidly backwards till the sharp part
towards the point reached the doll's neck, in one instant off rolled the
head. Others who do wicked deeds often injure themselves, so Norman,
whose finger was under the point cut a deep gash in it. As he felt the
pain, and saw the blood spurting forth, he jumped up, crying lustily for
some one to come and help him, utterly regardless of the mischief he had
done.

He gazed at his finger, and thought that all the blood in his body would
run out.

"Oh, what shall I do? what shall I do?" he screamed out. "Is nobody
coming to help me?" Then he looked at the doll.

"It was all your fault, you nasty thing," he exclaimed kicking the
doll's body away from its head, "I wish that I had