blind fury and then began to throttle his enemy, meaning honestly to slay him. There was a scuffle and Black Sheep was torn off the body by Harry and some colleagues, and cuffed home tingling but exultant. Aunty Rosa was out: pending her arrival Harry set himself to lecture Black Sheep on the sin of murder—which he described as the offence of Cain.
"Why didn't you fight him fair? What did you hit him when he was down for, you little cur?"
Black Sheep looked up at Harry's throat and then at a knife on the dinner-table.
"I don't understand," he said wearily. "You always set him on me and told me I was a coward when I blubbed. Will you leave me alone until Aunty Rosa comes in? She'll beat me if you tell her I ought to be beaten; so it's all right"
"It's all wrong," said Harry, magisterially. "You nearly killed him, and I shouldn't wonder if he dies."
"Will he die?" said Black Sheep.
"I dare say," said Harry, "and then you'll be hanged."
"All right," said Black Sheep, possessing himself of the table-knife. "Then I'll kill you now. You say things and do things and ... and I don't know how things happen, and you never leave me alone—and I don't care what happens!"
He ran at the boy with the knife, and Harry fled upstairs to his room, promising Black Sheep the finest thrashing in the world when Aunty Rosa returned. Black Sheep sat at the bottom of the stairs, the table-knife in his hand, and wept for that he had not killed Harry. The servant-girl came up from the kitchen, took the knife away and consoled him. But Black Sheep was beyond consolation. He would be badly beaten by Aunty Rosa; then there would be another beating at Harry's hands; then Judy would not be allowed to speak to him; then the tale would be told at school and then....
There was no one to help, and no one to care, and the best way out of the business was by death. A knife would hurt, but Aunty Rosa had told him, a year ago, that if he sucked paint he would die. He went into the nursery, unearthed
