The provoking part of it was that I had not had a fear of breaking down.  With poor Jem it was very different.  He took twice as much pains as I did, but he could not get things into his head, and even if they did stick there he found it almost harder to say them properly.  We began to learn the Catechism when we were three years old, and we went on till long after we were in trousers; and I am sure Jem never got the three words “and an inheritor” tidily off the tip of his tongue within my remembrance.  And I have seen both him and my mother crying over them on a hot Sunday afternoon.  He was always in a fright when we had to say the Catechism in church, and that day, I remember, he shook so that I could hardly stand straight myself, and Bob Furniss, the blacksmith’s son, who stood on the other side of him, whispered quite loud, “Eh! see thee, how Master Jem dodders!” for which Jem gave him an eye as black as his father’s shop afterwards, for Jem could use his fists if he could not learn by heart.

But at the time he could not even compose himself enough to count down the line of boys and calculate what question would come to him.  I did, and when he found he had only got the First Commandment, he was more at ease, and though the second, which fell to me, is much longer, I was not in the least afraid of forgetting it, for I could have done the whole of my duty to my neighbour if it had been necessary.

Jem got through very well, and I could hear my mother blessing him over the top of the pew behind our backs; but just as he finished, no less than three bees, who had been hovering over the heads of the workhouse boys opposite, all settled down together on Isaac Irvine’s bare hand.

At the public catechising, which came once a year, and after the second lesson at evening prayer, the grown-up members of the congregation used to draw near to the end of their pews to see and hear how we acquitted ourselves, and, as it happened on this particular occasion, Master Isaac was standing exactly opposite to me.  As he leaned forward, his hands crossed on the pew-top before him, I had been a good deal fascinated by his face, which was a very noble one in its rugged way, with snow-white hair and intense, keenly observing eyes, and when I saw the three bees settle on him without his seeming to notice it, I cried, “They’ll sting you!” before I thought of what I was doing; for I had been severely stung that week myself, and knew what it felt like, and how little good powder-blue does.

With attending to the bees I had not heard the parson say, “Second Commandment?” and as he was rather deaf he did not hear what I said.  But of course he knew it was not long enough for the right answer, and he said, “Speak up, my boy,” and Jem tried to start me by whispering, “Thou shalt not make to thyself”—­but the three bees went on sitting on Master Isaac’s hand, and though I began the Second Commandment, I could not take my eyes off them, and when Master Isaac