recognising in this description a rough sketch of the life of a modern knight-errant.
"'Ventures? I believe you!" said the man. "Why, only last month a brute of a dog bit me in the leg, at a back door Sutton way. An' once I see a elephant."
"Wild?" asked Dickie, thrilling.
"Not azackly wild—with a circus 'e was. But big! Wild ones ain't 'alf the size, I lay! And you meets soldiers, and parties in red coats ridin' on horses, with spotted dawgs, and motors as run you down and take your 'ead off afore you know you're dead if you don't look alive. Adventures? I should think so!"
"Ah!" said Dickie, and a full silence fell between them.
"Tired?" asked Mr. Beale presently.
"Just a tiddy bit, p'raps," said Dickie bravely, "but I can stick it."
"We'll get summat with wheels for you to-morrow," said the man, "if it's only a sugar-box; an' I can tie that leg of yours up to make it look like as if it was cut off."
"It's this 'ere nasty boot as makes me tired," said Dickie.
"Hoff with it," said the man obligingly; "down you sets on them stones and hoff with it! T'other too if you like. You can keep to the grass."
The dewy grass felt pleasantly cool and clean to Dickie's tired little foot, and when they crossed the road where a water-cart had dripped it was delicious to feel the cool mud squeeze up
