hat his brother had run four miles on account of
it, and that he himself must have appeared to others more selfish than
he thought them. He burned his theme, that he might the more easily
forget all about it; and the moment after he had done so, Phil said he
should have kept it, as other boys did theirs, for his parents to see.

Mr. Crabbe was just such a master as it was good for the little boys to
be under. He did not punish capriciously, nor terrify them by anything
worse than his strictness. Very strict he was; and he thus caused them
some fear every day: for Holt was backward, and not very clever: and
Hugh was still much less able to learn than most other boys. But all
felt that Mr. Crabbe was not unreasonable, and they always knew exactly
how much to be afraid of. Whether he had inquired, or been told, the
story of Hugh's lameness, they did not know. He said nothing about it,
except just asking Hugh whether it tired him to stand up in class,
saying that he might sit at the top or bottom of the class, instead of
taking places if he chose. Hugh did find it rather fatiguing at first
but he did not like to take advantage of Mr. Crabbe's offer, because it
so happened that he was almost always at the bottom of his classes: and
to have withdrawn from the contest would have looked like a trick to
hide the shame, and might have caused him to be set down as a dunce who
never could rise. He thanked Mr. Crabbe, and said that if he should rise
in his classes, and keep a good place for some time, he thought he
should be glad to sit, instead of standing; but meantime he had rather
be tired. Then the feeling of fatigue went off before he rose, or saw
any chance of rising.

This inability to do his lessons so well as other boys was a deep and
lasting grief to Hugh. Though he had in reality improved much since he
came to Crofton, and was now and then cheered by some proof of this, his
general inferiority in this respect was such as to mortify him every day
of his life, and sometimes to throw him almost into despair. He saw that
everybody pitied him for the loss of his foot, but not for this other
trouble, while he felt this to be rather the worst of the two; and all
the more because he was not sure himself whether or not he could help
it, as every one else seemed certain that he might. When he said his
prayer in his bed, he earnestly entreated that he might be able to bear
the one trouble, and be delivered from the other; and when,