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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Ranald Bannerman's Boyhood"

I allowed her to tell her tale without interruption.
After relating exactly how we had served her the night before, when
she had gone on a visit of mercy, as she represented it, she accused
me of all my former tricks--that of the cat having, I presume,
enlightened her as to the others; and ended by saying that if she were
not protected against me and Turkey, she must leave the place.
"Let her go, father," I said. "None of us like her."
"I like her," whimpered little Davie.
"Silence, sir!" said my father, very sternly. "Are these things true?"
"Yes, father," I answered. "But please hear what _I_'ve got to say.
She's only told you _her_ side of it."
"You have confessed to the truth of what she alleges," said my
father. "I did think," he went on, more in sorrow than in anger,
though a good deal in both, "that you had turned from your bad
ways. To think of my taking you with me to the death-bed of a holy
man, and then finding you so soon after playing such tricks!--more
like the mischievousness of a monkey than of a human being!"
"I don't say it was right, father; and I'm very sorry if I have
offended you."
"You _have_ offended me, and very deeply. You have been unkind and
indeed cruel to a good woman who has done her best for you for many
years!"
I was not too much abashed to take notice that the Kelpie bridled at
this.
"I can't say I'm sorry for what I've done to her," I said.


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