ns him) will make it worse
again. There is much disaffection everywhere, and it must grow to an
outbreak. The King hath many troops in London, and meaneth to bring
more from Tangier; but he cannot command these country places; and the
trained bands cannot help him much, even if they would. Now, do you
understand me, John?'

'In truth, not I. I see not what Tangier hath to do with Exmoor; nor the
Duke of Monmouth with Jeremy Stickles.'

'Thou great clod, put it the other way. Jeremy Stickles may have much to
do about the Duke of Monmouth. The Whigs having failed of Exclusion, and
having been punished bitterly for the blood they shed, are ripe for any
violence. And the turn of the balance is now to them. See-saw is the
fashion of England always; and the Whigs will soon be the top-sawyers.'

'But,' said I, still more confused, '"The King is the top-sawyer,"
according to our proverb. How then can the Whigs be?'

'Thou art a hopeless ass, John. Better to sew with a chestnut than to
teach thee the constitution. Let it be so, let it be. I have seen a
boy of five years old more apt at politics than thou. Nay, look not
offended, lad. It is my fault for being over-deep to thee. I should have
considered thy intellect.'

'Nay, Master Jeremy, make no apologies. It is I that should excuse
myself; but, God knows, I have no politics.'

'Stick to that, my lad,' he answered; 'so shalt thou die easier. Now,
in ten words (without parties, or trying thy poor brain too much), I am
here to watch the gathering of a secret plot, not so much against the
King as against the due succession.'

'Now I understand at last. But, Master Stickles, you might have said all
that an hour ago almost.'

'It would have been better, if I had, to thee,' he replied with much
compassion; 'thy hat is nearly off thy head with the swelling of brain I
have given thee. Blows, blows, are thy business, Jack. There thou art in
thine element. And, haply, this business will bring thee plenty even
for thy great head to take. Now hearken to one who wishes thee well,
and plainly sees the end of it--stick thou to the winning side, and have
naught to do with the other one.'

'That,' said I, in great haste and hurry, 'is the very thing I want
to do, if I only knew which was the winning side, for the sake of
Lorna--that is to say, for the sake of my dear mother and sisters, and
the farm.'

'Ha!' cried Jeremy Stickles, laughing at the redness of my face--'Lorna,
saidst