What had been his special villainy I could never discover.

People responded to my inquiries by saying that he had been "Oh, generally bad," and increased my longing for detail by adding that little boys ought not to want to know about such things.

From their tone and manner I assumed that he must have been a pirate at the very least, and regarded him with awe, not unmingled with secret admiration.
Whatever it was, he had been saved from it by his wife, a bony lady of unprepossessing appearance, but irreproachable views.
One day he called at our house for some purpose or other, and, being left alone with him for a few minutes, I took the opportunity of interviewing him personally on the subject.
"You were very wicked once, weren't you ?" I said, seeking by emphasis on the "once" to mitigate what I felt might be the disagreeable nature of the question.
To my intense surprise, a gleam of shameful glory lit up his wizened face, and a sound which I tried to think a sigh, but which sounded like a chuckle, escaped his lips.
"Ay," he replied; "I've been a bit of a spanker in my time." The term "spanker" in such connection puzzled me.

I had been hitherto led to regard a spanker as an eminently conscientious person, especially where the shortcomings of other people were concerned; a person who laboured for the good of others.

That the word could also be employed to designate a sinful party was a revelation to me.
"But you are good now, aren't you ?" I continued, dismissing further reflection upon the etymology of "spanker" to a more fitting occasion.
"Ay, ay," he answered, his countenance resuming its customary aspect of resigned melancholy.