"Old or young?"
"Well! one is a good deal older than me and——"
"White hair, then of course?" put in Humphrey.
"Greyish, perhaps; and the other is about the age of your uncle Charlie."
"Will he tell us such nice stories about kangaroos and boar-hunting?"
"I should think probably not. The other one is more likely to tell you stories, as he has had little boys of his own."
"Miles and I know of a pond where the branch of a tree hangs over, just like the one in Uncle Charlie's story; and we are going to crawl along it some day, and look down at our faces in the water, like the man did."
"Now, Humphrey," said Sir Everard, "I won't have it done. The branch is quite rotten, and may break off any minute."
Humphrey looked very mournful. "Are you quite sure, father?"