The child ran to his mother every time he learned anything new to make a display of his knowledge; but Jenkins was told to "mind his own business" by those who considered that he ought to be otherwise employed. Lady Fitz-harding, in particular, found great fault with his filling the duke's head with such "stuff" as mathematics, and seemed to regard the figures drawn in geometry some sort of magic-signs that savored of witchcraft. But her husband eased her mind by assuring her that Lewis Jenkins "was a good youth, who had read much, but meant no harm." The princess ordered Lord Fitzharding to hinder Jenkins from teaching her son anything, because he might get wrong ideas, that it would be hard to correct when he began to study according to the regular method. Shortly after she saw the duke fencing with a wooden sword, and defending himself against the attack of an imaginary foe. "I thought I forbade your people to fence with you," observed her royal highness. "Oh yes, mamma," replied the child; "but I hope you will give them leave to defend themselves when I attack them." He never tired of hearing tales from ancient history, and could recite many exploits of the heroes, much to the disgust {412}of the tutor, who knew that the knowledge had not been imparted by him. On the return of her brother-in-law in the autumn, Princess Anne wrote him a letter of congratulation on his conquest of Namur. The one she wrote after the death of the queen had resulted so favorably to herself that she expected equally pleasant effects from the present one; but she soon found her mistake, for the king had come home in a bad humor, and treated her letter with silent contempt. Perhaps congratulations seemed out of place when he remembered that the lives of twelve thousand men had paid the cost of his victory, besides an enormous sum of money. A few weeks later he made a state visit to Campden House, when the duke received him with military honors. The king was very much amused, and asked the child "whether he had any horses yet." "Oh yes," replied he, "I have one live horse and two dead ones." "You keep dead horses, do you?" asked his majesty. "That is not the way with soldiers, for they always bury their dead horses." The little duke was impressed by what his uncle had said, and determined to be as much like a real soldier as possible; so he summoned his regiment as soon as the king had departed, and buried his two hobby horses that he had designated as dead ones. A Shetland pony, no larger than a Newfoundland dog, was his riding animal.