Page:Arthur Stringer-The Loom of Destiny.djvu/119

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The Essentials of Aristocracy

His voice sounded strange to him. He was a coward to the backbone; and no one knew that better than he himself. But his face was bleeding, and he did n't care now! And he was afraid the boys would find out that he really was a coward.

They fought. A dozen small boys saw the well-known preliminaries, and ran joyfully toward the two, screaming as they came, "A fight! a fight!" A man in an express waggon pulled up to look down on the struggle, and two or three girls watched open-mouthed from the sidewalk.

When the teacher came out of the school gate, five minutes later, she saw a group of small boys scurry suspiciously away. One boy limped—for kicking had been allowed—and the other left little drops of blood here and there on the sidewalk as he ran. It had not been to a finish, but the skinny, narrow-chested new boy had surprised them all. As for the new boy himself, he was supremely thankful that he was even alive.

His misery came back to him with a deadening rush when he remembered that he

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