e niece seize Fritz by
the throat and bring him to the ground. When both were rolling over one
another, and Fritz's short, sharp barks became rather indignant in tone,
as he vainly tried to escape from the little hands so tightly round him,
Sir Edward thought it high time to interfere.

"Millicent," he called out sharply, "come to me at once; what are you
doing?"

In an instant Milly was upon her feet, and lifting a hot flushed little
face to his, she placed herself in her favorite attitude when in his
presence; her hands clasped behind her back, and feet closely planted
together.

"Don't you know Fritz might bite if you are so rough with him? Were you
trying to choke him?" demanded her uncle.

"Yes," she responded, breathless from her late exertions, "I was trying
to kill him! He's a bear, and that's my lamb, and I am David; that's
all."

A child's games were beyond Sir Edward's comprehension. He looked down
upon her with a knitted brow.

She continued--

"You see, he has to do for both, a bear and a lion, for they both came,
and they both tried to get the lamb. Nurse was the lion one day, but she
is too big; I can't knock her down, though I try hard."

"I will not have Fritz knocked down in that fashion. He might hurt you,"
said Sir Edward, sternly.

Milly looked sorrowful; then brightening up, she asked--

"But I may kill Goliath, mayn't I? Do you know that is one of my games.
See, I'm David, and you see that big old tree standing by itself? That's
Goliath. He is looking at me now. Do you see where his eyes come? Just
up there in those first branches. When it's windy he shakes his head at
me fearful! He's a wicked, wicked old thing, and he thinks no one can
knock him down. Do you remember about him, uncle?"

Sir Edward was becoming slightly interested. He leaned against a tree
and took out a cigar.

"No, I don't think I do," he said.

"Don't you remember? He stood up so proud, and called out: 'Choose a man
to come and fight me.' He's saying that to me now. I'm David, you know,
and I'm going. Just wait a moment till I'm ready."

She darted away to where her doll was, and soon returned with a tiny
calico bag, which she opened very carefully and disclosed to her uncle's
puzzled gaze five round stones.

"You see," she went on, "it's a pity I haven't a sling, but Tom in the
stable says he will make me a cattypot; that's a lovely sling, he says,
which would kill anything. But it's all right; I pretend I