Not a single one, for Phil was not far enough advanced for such work as that. He was drawing, after a fashion, and very busily, when the old Doctor, his tutor, suddenly looked up.
“Now, my dear boy,” he said, “can you say that declension?”
Phil started and shut up the book suddenly, turning very red the while.
“Don’t you know it yet?” said the Doctor, gravely.
The boy shook his head and looked terribly confused.
“Then you cannot have been studying it. What have you there?”
The Doctor spoke like a Frenchman, and said dere.
“Ah,” he continued, reaching out his hand and drawing out the paper. “I see, drawing-soldiers, eh?”
Phil nodded.
“Vairy fonnee soldiers, my boy. I should not know but for this sword. And is this a gun?”