Among my schoolmates, there were two boys who were always inseparable, yet they were as unlike each other in all respects as can well be conceived; What strange sympathy united them so closely, was to us all a matter of wonder; yet their friendship continued to increase, and the one seemed ever unhappy when absent from the other. Bill Hardy was a stout, hearty little fellow, fond of active and athletic sports, and ever the foremost in all feats of daring and mischief. If there was a battle to be fought with the butcher’s saucy imp, or the blacksmith’s grim-faced apprentice, who but Bill was thrust forward as the ready champion. And many a hard-fought contest did he wage with them, and many a black eye did he give and receive in his wars. But his spirit was ever unconquerable. If he received from their wicked fists a sound drubbing to-day, he was nothing loth to-morrow to try his luck again; and thus, by dint of persevering courage, he often contrived by a lucky blow to win a victory over his more powerful adversaries. Often did the graceless youth return to his widowed mother with a disfigured face, and with torn garments, and, after receiving her gentle reprimand, promise better things for the future; but with the next morning’s sun all his good resolutions vanished, and his repentant promises were forgotten. He seemed to overflow with the very spirit of fun and mischief. It was his delight to fasten a tin kettle to the tail of any vagabond dog in the streets, and send him howling with terror from one end of the village to the other. He enjoyed also great satisfaction in worrying every luckless cat that he could lay his hands on; and every poor broken-down horse in the pasture could attest to the weight of his arm and the sharpness of his heel. No unfortunate little bird could find a perch for its nest high enough to be safe from his marauding fingers, for he would fearlessly clamber to the very tops of the highest tree, like a squirrel, and scale the most dangerous precipice, in pursuit of his prey.