I put my hand into the sack. My hand came out quite black. I think we little boys were taken out of our sleep to be brought to the ordeal.
Goodness knows what the lost object was, or who stole it.
We all had black hands to show the master. And the thief, whoever he was, was not Found Out that time. I hope you have escaped often since, old sinner. Don't cry out about my misanthropy. Just picture to yourself everybody who does wrong being found out, and punished accordingly.