The other side of
the tale my father had evidently heard, and we fancied he must have
heard also of the intended attack on us, for it never took place, and
we knew of interviews which he had with John Binder and others of our
neighbours; and when the frost came in January, we found that the stones
had been taken out of the pond, and my father gave us a sharp lecture
against being quarrelsome and giving ourselves airs, and it ended
with--"The pond is mine. I wish you to remember it, because it makes it
your duty to be hospitable and civil to the boys I allow to go on it.
And I have very decidedly warned them and their parents to remember it,
because if my permission for fair amusement is abused to damage and
trespass, I shall withdraw the favour and prosecute intruders. But the
day I shut up my pond from my neighbours, I shall forbid you and Jack to
go on it again unless the fault is more entirely on one side than it's
likely to be when boys squabble."
My father waved our dismissal, but I hesitated.
"The boys won't think we told tales to you to get out of another fight?"
I gasped.
"Everybody knows perfectly well how I heard.
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