
Do not turn me away!”

Tom was touched with this pathetic distress.  He said, with a right
royal burst of generosity--

“Discomfort thyself no further, lad.  Thine office shall be permanent in
thee and thy line for ever.”  Then he struck the boy a light blow on the
shoulder with the flat of his sword, exclaiming, “Rise, Humphrey Marlow,
Hereditary Grand Whipping-Boy to the Royal House of England!  Banish
sorrow--I will betake me to my books again, and study so ill that they
must in justice treble thy wage, so mightily shall the business of thine
office be augmented.