her boys gathered round me.

"This ain't your knife," said the big boy, and spat casually.

"I dropped it just now."

"Findin's keepin's, I believe," said the big boy.

"Nonsense," I said. "Give me my knife."

"'Ow many blades it got?"

"Three."

"And what sort of 'andle?"

"Bone."

"Got a corkscrew like?"

"Yes."

"Ah! This ain't your knife no'ow. See?"

He made no offer to show it to me. My breath went.

"Look here!" I said. "I saw that kid pick it up. It IS my knife."

"Rot!" said the big boy, and slowly, deliberately put my knife into his
trouser pocket.

I braced my soul for battle. All civilisation was behind me, but I doubt
if it kept the colour in my face. I buttoned my jacket and clenched my
fists and advanced on my antagonist--he had, I suppose, the advantage of
two years of age and three inches of height. "Hand over that knife," I
said.

Then one of the smallest of the band assailed me with extraordinary
vigour and swiftness from behind, had an arm round my neck and a knee in
my back before I had the slightest intimation of attack, and so got me
down. "I got 'im, Bill," squeaked this amazing little ruffian. My nose
was flattened by a dirty hand, and as I struck out and hit something
like sacking, some one kicked my elbow. Two or three seemed to be at
me at the same time. Then I rolled over and sat up to discover them all
making off, a ragged flight, footballing my cap, my City Merchants' cap,
amongst them. I leapt to my feet in a passion of indignation and pursued
them.

But I did not overtake them. We are beings of mixed composition, and I
doubt if mine was a single-minded pursuit. I knew that honour required
me to pursue, and I had a vivid impression of having just been down
in the dust with a very wiry and active and dirty little antagonist of
disagreeable odour and incredible and incalculable unscrupulousness,
kneeling on me and gripping my arm and neck. I wanted of course to be
even with him, but also I doubted if catching him would necessarily
involve that. They kicked my cap into the ditch at the end of the field,
and made off compactly along a cinder lane while I turned aside to
recover my dishonoured headdress. As I knocked the dust out of that and
out of my jacket, and brushed my knees and readjusted my very crumpled
collar, I tried to focus this startling occurrence in my mind.

I had vague ideas of going to a policeman or of complaining at a police
station, but some boyish