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Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. "So endeth the first lesson," he said. . ‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. ” He passed his hand wearily over his forehead.
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This video was uploaded to launchmysitenow.com on 18-07-2024 20:36:52
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