Cinder Path Tales

ISO CINDER-PATH TALES must dobetter; that his lack ofimprovement was a reflection on me aswell as himself; and finally, if he was not an arrant cur, without courage and without honor, he would have tired of a child's jump long ago. " Why, man," saidI, " if you had sand enough for an ant-hill, with a pair of legs like yours, you would be making ajump of twenty-three feet this morning." Now, Dick was a great pet ofmine andhad never heard a hot word from me ; he was very much surprised, and when I called him an " arrant cur, without courage and without honor," he flushed to the roots of his hair. The questionof his honor was what touched him most deeply, for his Virginia atmosphere had made himespecially sensitive, if notover careful. I was pleased to see his face grow dark, andthe smilefade from the corners of his mouth. He was firstindignant, and then in a towering passion. He stepped toward me, with clinched hands, and opened his mouth acouple oftimes to speak, butnot a word did he say. Then heturned suddenly on his heel, walkedaway from me down the cinder-path, pulled his sweater over his head, dropped it on the grass, faced toward me again, and set himself for his sprint. I was standing with him close to the joist when I delivered my lecture, and I remained