What made you, Mr. Stubbs --
what made you do such a bad, cruel thing? Oh, what made you?"
"Don't, Toby -- don't take on so," said Ben, soothingly. "There
wasn't so very much money there, after all, an' you'll soon get as
much more."
"But it won't be for a good while, an' we could have been in the
good old home long before I can get so much again."
"That's true, my boy; but you must kinder brace up an' not give
way so about it. Perhaps I can fix it so the fellers will make it
up to you. Give Stubbs a good poundin', an' perhaps that 'll make
you feel better."
"That won't bring back my money an' I don't want to whip him,"
cried Toby, hugging his pet the closer because of this suggestion.
"I know what it is to get a whippin', an' I wouldn't whip a dog,
much less Mr. Stubbs, who didn't know any better."
"Then you must try to take it like a man," said Ben, who could
think of no other plan by which the boy might soothe his feelings.
"It hain't half so bad as it might be, an' you must try to keep a
stiff upper lip, even if it does seem hard at first."
This keeping a stiff upper lip in the face of all the trouble he was
having was all very well to talk about, but Toby could not reduce
it to practice, or, at least, not so soon after he knew of his loss,
and he continued to rock the monkey back and forth, to whisper in
his ear now and then, and to cry as if his heart was breaking, for
nearly an hour.
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