le Bob. "Pray sit down. We want your advice. A
cruel assault upon our nephew here"--and he related the whole affair.

"Humph!" ejaculated Mr Tomplin, looking hard at me.

"What should you advise--warrants against the ringleaders?"

"Summonses, Mr Robert, I presume," said Mr Tomplin. "But you don't
know who they were?"

"Yes; oh, yes!" cried Uncle Bob eagerly. "Two young Gentles."

"But you said the mother saved our young friend here from the lads,
dowsed them and trounced them with a pail, and made her husband clean
his boots, while she nursed him and made him tea."

"Ye-es," said Uncle Bob.

"Well, my dear sir, when you get summonses out against boys--a practice
to which I have a very great objection--it is the parents who suffer
more than their offspring."

"And serve them right, sir, for bringing their boys up so badly."

"Yes, I suppose so; but boys will be boys," said Mr Tomplin.

"I don't mind their being boys," said Uncle Bob angrily; "what I do
object to is their being young savages. Why, sir, they half-killed my
nephew."

"But he has escaped, my dear sir, and, as I understand it, the mother
has threatened to--er--er--leather the boys well, that was, I think, her
term--"

"Yes," I said, rather gleefully, "leather them."

"And judging from the description I have heard of this Amazon-like lady,
who makes her husband obey her like a sheep, the young gentlemen's skins
will undergo rather a severe tanning process. Now, don't you think you
had better let the matter stand as it is? And, speaking on the _lex
talionis_ principle, our young friend Jacob here ought to be able to
handle his fists, and on the first occasion when he met one of his
enemies he might perhaps give him a thrashing. I don't advise it, for
it is illegal, but he might perhaps by accident. It would have a good
effect."

"But you are always for letting things drop, Mr Tomplin," said Uncle
Bob peevishly.

"Yes; I don't like my friends to go to law--or appeal to the law, as one
may say. I am a lawyer, and I lose by giving such advice, I know."

"Mr Tomplin's right, Bob," said Uncle Jack. "You think of that boy as
if he were sugar. I'm sure he does not want to take any steps; do you,
Cob?"

"No," I said; "if I may--"

I stopped short.

"May what?"

"Have a few lessons in boxing. I hate fighting; but I should like to
thrash that big boy who kept hitting me most."

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

UNCLE JACK AND I HAVE A