"Please, sir, 'cause I understands we're like to meet the hinnimy, sir. Should wish to die dacent, sir." "Well, get on, then. Here, stop. Take this; and see if you can't find somebody to do your tailoring in the village." "Thank ye, sir; pertlickler obleeged to ye, sir; thank ye, sir." Then, having pocketed the francs, "Please, sir, though, with your pimmission, sir, I'd rayther do the job of tailoring myself, sir." "Oh, very well, if you choose to turn tailor. Just as you please." Jones was about to withdraw--but paused. There was a moment of internal struggle. "Please, sir," said he, "it's what I ham, sir. Sarved my prentice, sir. Only I don't know what ivver I shall do for a goose, sir." "I say, Jones, what's that you were saying just now about meeting the enemy? What enemy?" "Please, sir, I don't know nothing about it, only this, sir. The fellers as is here told our fellers, sir, as a Frinch party sprised a Portygee party, sir, in a village not two leagues off, sir, only three days ago, sir. Took or killed them all, sir. Druv some on 'em into the stable of the inn, sir; and bagonetted them under the manger, sir." "Oh, they did, did they? Then let me have my breakfast in about half-an-hour." "Please, sir, I'll go at once and give Nanny her milking, sir. She wants it dreadful, sir." While concluding my toilet, I noticed the merry chirp of children at play, which came in through the open window. Gradually it grew louder and more uproarious: there was evidently some unusual source of festivity. I looked out; the cause was manifest. Nanny, in the highest possible state of good humour, now making believe to butt, now running backwards, now stamping, now caprioling, now erect, with a languishing turn of her head and her fore-legs gracefully doubled down, was surrounded with a host of jocund juveniles, who broke forth into fresh shouts of mirth and marvel, at every variation in her attitude. In the midst of this hilarity, Jones rushed forth from the inn door, bearing in one hand a small three-legged stool, and in the other a can. Did you ever see a goat milked? Nanny at once became sedate--a fixture. Jones placed the three-legged stool _behind_ her, and the can between her hind legs. Goats, my dear madam, are not milked _sideways_, like cows. The milking began. This process effected a total change of deportment in the small rabble that stood looking on. Before, all was noise and fun. Now, every tongue was still, every movement suspended. Twenty little urchins stood grouped in silent observation; twenty little pairs of eyes stood wide open. Curiosity had superseded frolic; each was receiving an idea! As the operation proceeded, a snow-white head of milky foam rose mantling in the can. Then rose, too, the shout of joyous surprise. However, the younkers soon discovered, with the intuitive tact of children, that nothing new remained to be seen; so their thoughts reverted to sport. Hand joined in hand, the toddling