"]

"I reckon he is," said Keats, "I seed him lay out three-at-a-time of
them little primaries at recess to-day."

Last time it was two, now it is three. Of course these reports must be
exaggerated,--such a baby could not be so warlike. Taking him in my arms
and giving him a good hug, I said, "Jason, dear, I want you to remember
that it is wrong for little boys to fight."

Objections to bathing have been withdrawn, and the boys for some nights
have gone to the wash-house with such alacrity that my suspicions were
aroused, and I found they were taking advantage of their nude condition,
and freedom from interruption, to do great stunts of fighting, the
bathing being entirely lost sight of. I have been compelled to make a
rule that each boy must present himself in his clean gown after his
bath at my door for inspection of head, ears, neck and feet.

VII

HEROES AND HERO WORSHIP

_Saturday Bed-time._

While the boys were scrubbing their rooms after breakfast this morning,
Keats sauntered in, saying he had finished his job of cleaning the
chicken-yard. I went back, found it anything but clean, and called up to
Hen, who was sweeping the back steps, "Tell Keats to come back here and
clean this yard better!" He had just passed the word along, "Hi, son,
she says for you to come back and lick your calf over!" (I am becoming
used to being "she" and "her" on all occasions) when Nucky appeared in
the back door, waving excitedly for me. Not knowing what battle, murder
or sudden death might be in progress, I flew up the walk. The boys were
all hanging out the front door. Nucky shot me through them like a
catapult, saying, "Take a look at that 'ere man,--it's Asher Hardwick,
from over in Bloody Boyne. He's kilt twenty-four in war, and nine in
peace, and wouldn't wipe his foot on Achilles!"

A gray, venerable-looking man was passing down the road on an ambling
nag. "That man wouldn't hurt a fly," I said; "you must be mistaken."

"No, I haint,--I've seed him before. Of course he wouldn't hurt nobody
less'n he was driv' to it; but the Mohuns just wouldn't give him no
peace at all till they was all kilt off,--same as the Cheevers does us."

"But how could he kill nine in peace?" I asked.

"Kilt them just accidental,--they was witless folk that never knowed
enough to keep out of his way when he was out after Mohuns. Asher he'd
feel terrible about such as that."

To-night as I related more Trojan War, there were fr