ell you to protect and
set an example to young Singh here?"

"Yes, father."

"Look at yourself in the glass. You look a pretty pattern, don't you?"

"Yes, father."

"I told you to look at yourself in the glass. Why don't you?"

"Because I know every scratch and bruise thoroughly by heart, father."

"But--" began the Colonel.

Here Singh interposed.

"It wasn't his fault, sir," cried the boy. "It was mine. He didn't
want to fight, and said he wouldn't."

"Ho!" said the Colonel. "Said he wouldn't fight, did he."

"Yes, sir, and he actually let the big bully hit him."

"Ha!" said the Colonel. "And then knocked him down for it?"

"No, he didn't, sir," cried Singh, with his eyes twinkling. "He
wouldn't fight even then."

"Humph!" grunted the Colonel. "And what then?"

"Well, it put me in such a rage, sir, that I couldn't bear it, and I
went and hit the big fellow right in the face, and he hit me again."

"Ah, you needn't tell me that," replied the Colonel; "that's plain
enough. Well, what after?"

"Well, that made Glyn take my part, and he swung me behind him; and oh,
sir, he did give the big fellow such an awful thrashing!"

"Ha!" said the Colonel, taking his great grey moustache by both hands
and drawing it out horizontally. "A thorough thrashing, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what were you doing?"

"Oh, I was seconding him, sir."

"Oh, that was right. You were not both on him at once?"

"Oh no, sir; it was all fair."

"Then Glyn thoroughly whipped him, eh?"

"Yes, sir, thoroughly."

The Colonel turned to his son, and looked him over again; and then,
after another two-handed tug at his moustache, he said slowly:

"I say, Glyn, old chap, you got it rather warmly. But tut, tut, tut,
tut! This won't do. What did that old chap say: `Let dogs delight to
bark and bite'? Here, I have been talking to the Doctor, and the Doctor
has been talking to me. Look here, you, Singh, military fighting, after
proper discipline, and done by fighting men, is one thing; schoolboy
fighting is quite another, not for gentlemen. It's low and
blackguardly.--Do you hear, Glyn?" he cried turning on his son.
"Blackguardly, sir--blackguardly. Look at your faces, sir, and see how
you have got yourselves marked. But er--er--"

He picked his pocket-handkerchief up from where he had spread it over
his knees and blew another blast. "This er--this er--big fellow that
you thrashed--big disagreeable fellow--bit of