"Lud! I do believe he's even paying me compliments! How old are you, boy?"
"A lot more 'n you think, and hoceans more 'n I look, mam."
"And what's your name?"
"Milo, mam,—Milo o' Crotona, but my pals generally calls me Tony, for short, they do."
"Milo of Crotona!" repeated the Duchess, with her eyes wider than ever, "but he was a giant who slew an ox with his fist, and ate it whole!"
"Why, mam, I'm oncommon fond of oxes,—roasted, I am."
"Well," said the Duchess, "you are the very smallest giant I ever saw."
"Why, you ain't werry large yourself, mam, you ain't."
"No, I fear I am rather petite," said the Duchess with a trill of girlish laughter. "And pray, Giant, what may you be doing here?"
"Come up on the coach, I did,—box seat, mam,—to take Mr. Beverley back wiv me 'cause 'is 'oss ain't safe, and—"