"I might just as well say to you, `Isn't it enough to tempt him to take the grapes or the peaches to trust him among them alone.'" "He did steal the peaches when he first came.

I caught him at it," cried Philip viciously.
"No, you did not, young gentleman," said Mr Solomon sternly; "but I saw you cut two bunches of grapes one evening--the Muscat of Alexandria--and take them away." "Oh what a wicked story!" cried Philip, angrily.
"Call it what you like, young gentleman," said Mr Solomon; "but it's a fact.

I meant to speak to Sir Francis, for I hate the choice fruit to be touched till it's wanted for the house; but I said to myself he's only a schoolboy and he was tempted, and here are the young gentleman's nail scissors, Sir Francis, that he dropped in his hurry and left behind." As Mr Solomon spoke he handed a pair of pearl-handled scissors--a pair of those spring affairs with a tiny knife-blade in each handle--and in the midst of a dead silence laid them on the table before Sir Francis.
"Those are not mine," said Philip hastily.
"Humph!" ejaculated Sir Francis, picking them up and examining them.

"I shall have to order you out of the room, man, if you make that noise," he cried, as he turned to Ike.
"I weer on'y laughin', your worship," said Ike.
"Then leave off laughing, sir," continued Sir Francis, "and have the goodness to tell me what you were doing down the garden.

Were you collecting moths with a dark lantern ?" "Me, your honour! not I." "What were you doing, then ?" "Well, your honour's worship, I was having a bit of a sleep--tired, you see." "Oh!" exclaimed Sir Francis.