yaller tomtit chaps as lays such lots o' eggs. I fetches a stick, and I
was going to shove it in and twist it in the hay and stuff o' the nest
and draw it out."

"But you didn't?"

"No, sir, I didn't; for I says to myself, if Sir Granby and her ladyship
like the place to go to ruin, they may let it; and if the two little
birds--there was a cock and hen--didn't bring up twelve of the rummiest
little, tiny young uns I ever did see. There they was, all a-sitting in
a row along the gun, and it seemed to me so comic for 'em to be there
that I bust out a-laughing quite loud."

"And they all flew away?"

"Nay, sir, they didn't; they stopped there a-twittering. But if that
gun had been loaded, and I'd touched it off with a fire-stick, it would
have warmed their toes, eh? But would you clean up the old guns?"

"I don't see why you shouldn't, Ben. They're valuable."

"Vallerble? I should think they are, sir. And, do you know, I will;
for who knows what might happen? They tell me down in the village that
there's trouble uppards, and people gets talking agen the king. Ah!
I'd talk 'em if I had my way, and make some of 'em squirm.--Yes, I will
tidy things up a bit. Startle some on 'em if we was to fire off a gun
or two over the village."

"They'd burst, Ben. Haven't been fired for a hundred years, I should
say. Those brass guns were made in Queen Elizabeth's time."

"Oh, they wouldn't burst, sir; I shouldn't be afraid of that.--But this
is not learning to thrust, is it?"

"No. Come on," cried Roy, and he took one of the stout ash rods.
"Here, hadn't I better put on this helmet?"

"Not yet, sir. You can practise thrusting without that. Now then, here
I am, sir. All ready for you on my guard. Now, thrust."

Ben dropped into an easy position, with his legs a little bent, one foot
advanced, his left hand behind him, and his stick held diagonally across
his breast.

Roy imitated him, dropping into the same position.

"Where shall I stab you?" he cried.

"Just wherever you like, sir,--if you can."

The boy made a quick dart forward with his stick, and it passed by his
teacher, who parried with the slightest movement of his wrist.

"I said thrust, sir."

"Well, I did thrust."

"That wasn't a thrust, sir; that was only a poke. It wouldn't have gone
through a man's coat, let alone his skin. Now, again!"

The boy made another push forward with his stick, which was also
parried.

"Nay, that won't