“Don’t you know Fritz might bite if you are so rough with him?  Were you trying to choke him?” demanded her uncle.

“Yes,” she responded, breathless from her late exertions, “I was trying to kill him!  He’s a bear, and that’s my lamb, and I am David; that’s all.”

A child’s games were beyond Sir Edward’s comprehension.  He looked down upon her with a knitted brow.

She continued—­

“You see, he has to do for both, a bear and a lion, for they both came, and they both tried to get the lamb.  Nurse was the lion one day, but she is too big; I can’t knock her down, though I try hard.”

“I will not have Fritz knocked down in that fashion.  He might hurt you,” said Sir Edward, sternly.

Milly looked sorrowful; then brightening up, she asked—­

“But I may kill Goliath, mayn’t I?  Do you know that is one of my games.  See, I’m David, and you see that big old tree standing by itself?  That’s Goliath.  He is looking at me now.  Do you see where his eyes come?  Just up there in those first branches.  When it’s windy he shakes his head at me fearful!  He’s a wicked, wicked old thing, and he thinks no one can knock him down.  Do you remember about him, uncle?”

Sir Edward was becoming slightly interested.  He leaned against a tree and took out a cigar.

“No, I don’t think I do,” he said.

“Don’t you remember?  He stood up so proud, and called out:  ’Choose a man to come and fight me.’  He’s saying that to me now.  I’m David, you know, and I’m going.  Just wait a moment till I’m ready.”

She darted away to where her doll was, and soon returned with a tiny calico bag, which she opened very carefully and disclosed to her uncle’s puzzled gaze five round stones.

“You see,” she went on, “it’s a pity I haven’t a sling, but Tom in the stable says he will make me a cattypot; that’s a lovely sling, he says, which would kill anything.  But it’s all right; I pretend I have a sling, you know.  Now you wait here; I’m going to meet him.  I’m not a bit afraid, though he looks so big, because David wasn’t, you know.  God helped him.  Now, Goliath, I’m ready!”

Sir Edward looked on in some amusement as Milly stepped out with regular even steps until she was about twenty feet from the tree, then suddenly stopped.

“I hear what you say, Goliath.  You say you’ll give my body to be pecked at and eaten by the birds; but you won’t do that, for I am coming, and I am going to kill you.”

And then with all her strength the child flung her stones one by one at the tree, pausing for some moments when she had done so.

“He’s quite dead, uncle,” she said calmly, as she retraced her steps and stood before Sir Edward, again looking up at him with those earnest eyes of hers, “quite dead; and if I had a sword I would play at cutting off his head.  I suppose you wouldn’t lend me your sword hanging up in the hall, would you?”