From my window the humors of the scene were strange and various, and at first not a little laughable. Simon bustled to and fro, urging and directing stable lads sweating under load after load of armor, and weapons from the hall, the armory, and the steward's room. At last, all being in some manner armed and mounted, they were gotten into a semblance of order, and their instruction and weeding out began. At first, I say, I laughed much at one man's hopeless perplexity in handling together sword and reins, or at another, being undersized and of even less strength than skill, to see him strive in vain to control a fat and lusty charger, fresh from the plough, and grown wanton to feel so little weight upon his back and none at his tail. But, as one after another these were discarded and went their ways, some in evident dudgeon and others in as plain relief of mind, and as the dwindling number grew even more martial in mount, bearing, and accoutrement, the sight did begin to make some corresponding emotion in my heart; and I almost found myself wishing that I had been born a man, the more that my dear father had that same morning lamented there was none of Drayton blood to lead the little band. He had let drop, too, some words, as bitter as few, of my brother Philip, and had told me then, for the first time, how my mother's two children did come to bear one name. "Your mother bore her first child, little Phil," he said, "in the early days of the horse-breeding that has brought us so much wealth. And I loved the beasts, spending once my last guineas and the price of a farm besides to bring to my stud the Barbary sire you remember. So when I knew it was a man child I called him Philip, saying he should love horses as his father, and do great things for the breed, and his name be famous in England. And as he grew 't was harder to get him inside a stable than to keep most lads without it. To this day I know not if he would distinguish your ugly Meg from the noblest charger of His Highness of Orange. When ten years were gone, and there was again hope for us, I said, if it prove a girl, we 'll e'en try the name on her. And give it you I did, with a little tag or handle to mark you woman. Poor child," he added kindly, yet sorrowfully, "'t is not thy fault thou hast the wrong sex, and, Gad 's my life! you have been a better son to me than Philip."