The stout gentleman flushed up a little at this allusion, and said something in Greek which fortunately the boys did not understand.
“Been having any more lessons on the sewing machine lately—eh, old chap?” inquired Joe. “We know all about you, Magnus minor and I. There’s fellows at our school could lick you into a cocked hat. You come to our sports one day and see.”
Hercules, a good deal ruffled, used a considerable amount of idiomatic Greek, and made for the boys with his club.
Fortunately for them, Minerva’s shield happened to be lying on the ground close by, and Joe, with great presence of mind, recalling his classics for the occasion, took it up and presented it at the giant.
Naturally, he turned to stone on the spot; and as at that particular moment he had one foot off the ground, his club above his head, and his mouth wide open, the effect was striking.
They amused themselves for a short time playing Aunt Sally at him; and then, getting rather tired of the whole affair, looked about them for some way of escaping.
They met Cupid, the boy that belonged to Venus, prowling about with his bow and arrow.
“Hullo, kid!” said Magnus. “Here you are—three shots a penny, and twopence if you hit me at twenty yards!”
Cupid aimed and missed, and then very foolishly began to cry.
“What are you blubbering at?” asked Joe. “You young soft!”