ound his feet and
tripped him up. The basket was upset, the beautiful new loaves went
bumping and bouncing all over the dusty chalky road. The girls ran to
pick them up, and all in a moment Robert and the baker's boy were
fighting it out, man to man, with Cyril to see fair play, and the
skipping-rope twisting round their legs like an interesting snake that
wished to be a peace-maker. It did not succeed; indeed the way the
boxwood handles sprang up and hit the fighters on the shins and ankles
was not at all peace-making. I know this is the second fight--or
contest--in this chapter, but I can't help it. It was that sort of day.
You know yourself there are days when rows seem to keep on happening,
quite without your meaning them to. If I were a writer of tales of
adventure such as those which used to appear in _The Boys of England_
when I was young of course I should be able to describe the fight, but I
cannot do it. I never can see what happens during a fight, even when it
is only dogs. Also, if I had been one of these _Boys of England_
writers, Robert would have got the best of it. But I am like George
Washington--I cannot tell a lie, even about a cherry-tree, much less
about a fight, and I cannot conceal from you that Robert was badly
beaten, for the second time that day. The baker's boy blacked his other
eye, and being ignorant of the first rules of fair play and gentlemanly
behaviour, he also pulled Robert's hair, and kicked him on the knee.
Robert always used to say he could have licked the baker if it hadn't
been for the girls. But I am not sure. Anyway, what happened was this,
and very painful it was to self-respecting boys.

[Illustration: He pulled Robert's hair]

Cyril was just tearing off his coat so as to help his brother in proper
style, when Jane threw her arms round his legs and began to cry and ask
him not to go and be beaten too. That "too" was very nice for Robert, as
you can imagine--but it was nothing to what he felt when Anthea rushed
in between him and the baker's boy, and caught that unfair and degraded
fighter round the waist, imploring him not to fight any more.

"Oh, don't hurt my brother any more!" she said in floods of tears. "He
didn't mean it--it's only play. And I'm sure he's very sorry."

You see how unfair this was to Robert. Because, if the baker's boy had
had any right and chivalrous instincts, and had yielded to Anthea's
pleading and accepted her despicable apology, Robert could not,