"Come on, tell me."
"Well, it's at the man as is swallowing swords ahint the menagerie."
"I see nothing to laugh at in that."
"I'm no laughing at that. I'm laughing at him for selling the swords for ninepence the piece. Oh, what ignorant he is, oh, what a bar!"
"Ninepence is a mislaird price for a soord," said Francie. "I never gave ninepence."
Tommy looked at him in the way that always made boys fidget with their fists.
"You're near as big a bar as him," he said scornfully. "Did you ever see the sword that's hanging on the wall in the backroom at the post-office?"
"No, but my father has telled me about it. It has a grand name."
"It's an Andrea Ferrara, that's what it is."
"Ay, I mind the name now; there has been folk killed wi' that soord."