One day you are well in the tops of the trees,
and being dared by the boys below, you venture higher--higher than any
boy has ever gone before. You feel very proudly, but just then catch
sight of the sneering face of your old enemy of the snapper; and he
dares you to go upon a limb that he points out.
The rest say,--for you hear them plainly,--"It won't bear him." And
Frank, a great friend of yours, shouts loudly to you not to try.
"Pho," says your tormentor,--"the little coward!"
If you could whip him, you would go down the tree, and do it willingly;
as it is, you cannot let him triumph; so you advance cautiously out upon
the limb; it bends and sways fearfully with your weight; presently it
cracks; you try to return, but it is too late; you feel yourself going;
your mind flashes home--over your life, your hope, your fate--like
lightning; then comes a sense of dizziness, a succession of quick blows,
and a dull, heavy crash!
You are conscious of nothing again, until you find yourself in the great
hall of the school, covered with blood, the old Doctor standing over you
with a phial, and Frank kneeling by you, and holding your shattered arm,
which has been broken by the fall.
Pages:
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60