This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
CONFESSIONS OF A THUG.
59

through the bone. Mashalla! it is a brave boy!" and again my father hugged me to his breast.

"I beg to represent," said old Benee Singh, my instructor in my athletic exercises, "that some of the praise is due to me for my good teaching. I always told you, Ismail Sahib, that the Sahib Zadah would be worthy of his father; may his riches increase, and may he live a thousand years! Yes, sir," said he to me, "often have I taught you that cut; you see you were running along, and cut over your left hand; it is few that can do that with any certainty, but you have caught the knack, and you want but a little practice to become as good a swordsman as myself. Perhaps, too," continued he to me, laughing, "the heart of your teacher may be made glad to-day; under such an auspicious commencement, the Sahib Zadah will remember the old Rajpoot."

"That reminds me," said my father, "that I owe you a present; come to me this afternoon. Inshalla! we know how to be grateful for kindness, and it shall have its reward." And he received when he came a handsome gift.

I must say, however, that under his tuition