"Oh, I see," he said; and sitting down began to wipe the mud from his legs with his stockings.
"Rather muddy, aren't you?" I hinted. The boy cast a furtive glance at his draggled person.
"'Fraid I'm a teeny bit wet, too," he said hesitatingly. "You see, I've been playing at 'Romans,' an' I had to wade, you know, 'cause was the standard-bearer who jumped into the sea waving his sword an' crying, 'Follow me!' You remember him, don't you?--he's in the history book."
"To be sure," I nodded; "a truly heroic character. But if you were the Romans, where were the Ancient Britons?"
"Oh, they were the reeds, you know; you ought to have seen me slay them. It was fine; they went down like--like----"
"Corn before the sickle," I suggested.
"Yes, just!" he cried; "the battle raged for hours."
"You must be rather tired."
"'Course not," he answered, with an indignant look. "I'm not a girl--an' I'm nearly nine, too."
"I gather from your tone that you are not partial to the sex--you don't like girls, eh, Imp?"