ur men so feeble grew
That they could fight no more._"

Then his memory seemed to return, and he went on with great gusto:

"_And then upon dead horses
Full savourly they eat,
And drank the puddle water--
They could no better get._"

Then there was a dead stop. "'When they--'" said Lady Eleanor. "Oh,
Dick."

"I always remember the puddle water, mother," said Dick reproachfully.

"Elsie," said Lady Eleanor; and Elsie folded her hands over her work
and began:

"_When they had fed so freely,
They kneeled upon the ground,
And praised God devoutly
For the favour they had found._"

"Then," broke in Dick triumphantly--

"Then beating up their colours
The fight they did renew,
And turning on the Spaniards,
A thousand more they slew."

"There, I know it now, mother, mayn't I go now and tell the Corporal to
saddle Prince for me? And mayn't Elsie come too?"

So away the children ran, and there was the Corporal waiting outside
the door, as anxious to be off as themselves; while Lady Eleanor made
her way to see Betsy Fry, who was waiting by the old gate-house a few
yards away from the front door.

"Well, Betsy, what is it?" she said kindly, coming up to a woman of
rather hard features, who stood patiently in the shade with her
sun-bonnet fluttering in the breeze.

"'Tis about my Tommy, my Lady," said the woman curtseying. "Here,
Tommy, come 'vor, and take off your hat to her Ladyship," and she
pulled forward a frightened shrinking boy in a suit of corduroy, who
had hidden himself behind her. "Look to mun, my Lady, he that was the
most rompageous boy in Ashacombe, so quiet as a snail. And he can't
spake, my Lady, he can't spake."

"Can't speak?" said Lady Eleanor.

"I can't make mun spake, my Lady. I don't know if your Ladyship was to
try--"

"Why, Tommy," said Lady Eleanor, bending down towards the boy, in her
sweet winning tones, "what's the matter with you? Come along and tell
me, like a good boy."

The lad came forward, for no one could resist Lady Eleanor's smile, and
opened his mouth confidently to speak; but he made only a few
inarticulate sounds, and then thrust his knuckles into his eyes and
began to cry.

"Come, come, don't be frightened. Try again," said Lady Eleanor
kindly; but the boy only continued sobbing and remained speechless.
Nor could all her endeavours succeed in making him utter a word.

"He must recover his speech presently," she said, much pu