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Updated: June 4, 2025
I b'lieve it's grub! Somebody's been feedin' you! An' you want me to keep it up? Well, you struck it all right, Mr. Redbird. Feed you? You bet I will! You needn't even 'rastle for grubs if you don't want to. Like as not you're feelin' hungry right now, pickin' bein' so slim these airly days. Land's sake! I hope you don't feel you've come too soon.
"Why, Greenfield," exclaimed Mr Rastle, when in due time the young hero's turn came to stand up and answer a question, "what have you been doing to yourself?" "Nothing, sir," remarked Stephen, mildly. "How did you come by that black eye?" asked the master. "Fighting, sir," said Stephen, rather pompously. "Ah! what did you say forty-eight sixths was equal to?" This was Mr Rastle's way.
Mr Rastle must know well enough that Stephen was getting on badly. "Not very well, I'm afraid, sir, thank you," replied the boy, not feeling exactly comfortable. "Not? That's a pity. Are the lessons too hard for you?" kindly inquired Mr Rastle. "No, I don't think so that is no, they're not, sir." "Ah, your Latin exercise I thought was very fair in parts to-day."
Mr Rastle gave him leave, and told him the best sort of lotion to ask for, and so, as soon as afternoon school was over, our young champion sallied boldly forth on his errand. He felt very self-satisfied and forgiving to all the world as he walked along. There was no doubt about it, he was a hero. Every one seemed to take an interest in his black eye and sore cheek, from Mr Rastle downwards.
"Nemo," promptly replied Stephen. "Of course! and therefore if you had done the exercise yourself you wouldn't have made that horrid that fearful mistake!" Stephen said, "Yes, sir," and meditated. "Come now," said Mr Rastle, cheerily, "I'm not going to scold you. But if you take my advice you will try and do the next exercise by yourself.
And so saying he took from his pocket and exhibited to Mr Rastle the very promissory note, signed by Loman, which he had pretended to tear up and burn the last time that unhappy boy was at the Cockchafer. Had Mr Rastle known as much as the reader knows he would not have wasted more time over Mr Cripps.
They had evidently overlooked her in the shadow. "But," said the stranger, as if following an aggrieved line of apology, "if Barstow knew who you were, and what you'd done, and still thought you good enough to rastle round here and square up them Pike County fellers and them kids what in thunder do you care if the others DO find you out, as long as Barstow sticks to you?"
Bimeby he see a great big stalk er sugar-cane stan'in' up in de cornder, en he cle'r up his th'oat en talk biggity: "'Yer! you young Rabs dar, sail 'roun' yer en broke me a piece er dat sweetnin'-tree, sezee, en den he koff. "De little Rabbits, dey got out de sugar-cane, dey did, en dey rastle wid it, en sweat over it, but twan't no use. Dey couldn't broke it.
They slunk off meekly in obedience to this order, and waited the hour of vengeance in blank dismay. Dr Senior did not keep them long in suspense, however. His slow, firm step sounded presently down the corridor, and at the sound each wretched culprit quaked with horror. Mr Rastle was in the room, and rose as usual to greet his chief; the boys also, as by custom bound, rose in their places.
No, nor he won't throw no dice for the chance o' winnin' Esperanza, nor he won't flip no coin, nor yet 'rastle. 'But, says he all of a sudden, 'I'll tell you which I'll do. You're a big, thick, strappin' hulk o' a two-fisted dray-horse, Hardie, an' I ain't no effete an' digenerate one-lunger myself.
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