It was a trying moment for the poor, little, lonely boy; however,
this time he did not ask Tom what he might or might not do, but
dropped on his knees by his bedside, as he had done every day
from his childhood, to open his heart to Him who heareth the
cry and beareth the sorrows of the tender child, and the strong
man in agony.
Tom was sitting at the bottom of his bed unlacing his boots, so
that his back was toward Arthur, and he did not see what had
happened, and looked up in wonder at the sudden silence. Then two
or three boys laughed and sneered, and a big, brutal fellow,
who was standing in the middle of the room, picked up a slipper
and shied it at the kneeling boy, calling him a sniveling young
shaver.
Then Tom saw the whole, and the next moment the boot he had just
pulled off flew straight at the head of the bully, who had just
time to throw up his arm and catch it on his elbow. "Brown, you
rascal! What do you mean by that?" roared he, stamping with
pain."
"Never mind what I mean," said Tom, stepping on to the floor,
every drop of blood in his body tingling: "if any fellow wants
the other boot, he knows how to get it.
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