“Oh! you are Ishmael Worth, are you?  The wearer woman’s boy and Jem Morris’s ’prentice!  Happy to know you, sir!” said the lad sarcastically, as he deliberately spread his handkerchief on the ground and began to fill it with English walnuts.

“Return those things to the hamper, Master Alfred, while times are good,” said Ishmael slowly and distinctly.

“Oh, I say, Ben, isn’t he a nice one to make acquaintance with?  Let’s ask him to dinner!” jeered the boy, helping himself to more walnuts.

“You had better return those things before worse comes of it,” said Ishmael, slowly pulling off his little jacket and carefully folding it up and laying it on the ground.

“I say, Ben!  Jem Morris’s apprentice is going to fight!  Ar’n’t you scared?” sneered Master Alfred, tying up his handkerchief full of nuts.

“Will you return those things or not?” exclaimed Ishmael, unbuttoning his little shirt collar and rolling up his sleeves.

“Will you tell me who was your father?” mocked Master Alfred.

That question was answered by a blow dashed full in the mouth of the questioner, followed instantly by another blow into his right eye and a third into his left.  Then Ishmael seized him by the collar and, twisting it, choked and shook him until he dropped his plunder.  But it was only the suddenness of the assault that had given Ishmael a moment’s advantage.  The contest was too unequal.  As soon as Master Alfred had dropped his plunder he seized his assailant.  Ben also rushed to the rescue.  It was unfair, two boys upon one.  They soon threw Ishmael down upon the ground and beat his breath nearly out of his body.  They were so absorbed in their cowardly work that they were unconscious of the approach of the party from the shop, until the gentleman left the ladies and hurried to the scene of action, exclaiming: 

“What’s this?  What’s this?  What’s all this, young gentlemen?  Let that poor lad alone!  Shame on you both!”

The two culprits ceased their blows and started up panic-stricken.  But only for a moment.  The ready and reckless falsehood sprang to Alfred’s lips.

“Why, sir, you see, we were walking along and saw your carriage standing here and saw that boy stealing the fruit and nuts from it.  And we ordered him to stop and he wouldn’t, and we pitched into him and beat him.  Didn’t we, Ben”

“Yes, we beat him,” said Ben evasively.

“Humph!  And he stole the very articles that he was put here to guard!  Sad! sad! but the fault was mine!  He is but a child! a poor child, and was most likely hungry.  I should not have left the fruit right under his keen young nose to tempt him!  Boys, you did very wrong to beat him so!  You, who are pampered so much, know little of the severe privations and great temptations of the poor.  And we cannot expect children to resist their natural appetites,” said the gentleman gently, as he stooped to examine the condition of the fallen boy.