I do not say it in praise of myself, because these things come by nature, but I have a tender feeling towards all living creatures, and cannot bear to see them tortured. To Louis it was a delight, and even his pets did not escape when he grew tired of them. He had some white rabbits, and one day I saw him bind all the limbs of one of them round its body till it resembled a ball in form. Then he threw it high in the air again and again, and frequently failing to catch it the poor thing fell upon the gravel path in the garden till it was covered with blood. I was fourteen years of age at the time, Louis was twelve. I darted forward, and picking up the wounded animal was loosening its bonds, when he snatched it from me. I endeavored to take it from him, telling him it was cruel to torture the helpless creature. We had a struggle, and his screams brought his mother from the house. She fell upon me, and dragged me away. "See what he has done," said Louis, pointing to the bleeding rabbit, which had fallen to the ground. "You did it," I retorted. "It's a lie," he screamed. "You did it, you did it." It was not the first falsehood he had told by many to get me into trouble. Panting with rage, my stepmother ran back to the house, and returned with a cane she had often used upon me. "I will punish you for the lie," she said. "How dare you say my darling would do such a cruel thing? You are a disgrace to the name you bear." She flourished the cane; I stepped back. "I have told the truth," I said, "and I don't intend to be punished any more by you for faults I do not commit." "You do not intend!" she answered, advancing towards me. "I will teach you; I will teach you!" Swish went the cane across my face; only once, for as she was about to repeat the blow I wrested it from her, broke it, and threw it over the garden wall. In a frenzy of ungovernable fury she seized the first weapon that caught her eye--a gardener's spade--and attacked me with it, and at the same moment Louis ran at me with a three-pronged rake. He slipped and fell, and in his fall wounded himself with the prongs. His cries of pain diverted his mother's attention from me; she flung away the spade, and caught him in her arms. Alarmed at the sight of blood dripping from his face I stepped forward to assist her. "Keep off, you murderer!" she shrieked. "You have killed my boy! You will come to the gallows!"