“But I’m sure that there are some in his coat, uncle,” I said, “for if you watch him when he’s lying on the hearth-rug to-night, every now and then he jumps up and snaps at them, and bites the place.”
“Shush! yes, my boy,” he whispered; “but don’t talk about it. Your aunt is so particular. It’s a secret between us.”
I couldn’t help smiling at him, and after a moment or two he smiled at me, and then patted me on the shoulder.
“Don’t do anything to annoy your aunt, my boy,” he said; “I wouldn’t play with Nap if I were you.”
“I’ll try not to, uncle,” I said; “but he will come and coax me to play with him sometimes.”
“H’m! yes,” said my uncle thoughtfully, “and it does do him good, poor dog. He eats too much, and gets too fat for want of exercise. Suppose you only play with him when your aunt goes out for a walk.”
“Very well, uncle,” I said, and then he shook hands with me, and gave me half a crown.
I couldn’t help it, I was obliged to spend that half-crown in something I had been wanting for weeks. It was a large crossbow that hung up in the toy-shop window in Streatham, and that bow had attracted my attention every time I went out.
To some boys a crossbow would be only a crossbow, but to me it meant travels in imagination all over the world. I saw myself shooting apples off boys’ heads, transfixing eagles in their flight, slaying wild beasts, and bringing home endless trophies of the chase, so at the first opportunity I was off to the shop, and with my face glowing with excitement and delight I bought and took home the crossbow.
“Hallo, Nat!” said Uncle Joseph. “Why, what’s that—a crossbow?”