‘There, go to your mother, she’s in the dairy; I wash my hands of you.’

But Teddy crept up to his little room to change his wet clothes before he met his mother, and then was very silent about his adventure, merely saying, by way of explanation, that he had fallen into the brook; but at tea, a short time after, he suddenly said,—­

’If you put a sailor and a soldier together, which would you choose, Uncle Jake?’

’Eh, my laddie?  Well, they’re both good in their way.  I couldn’t say, I’m sure.’

‘Mother, wouldn’t you say the soldier was the bravest?’

‘Perhaps I might, sonny; but a sailor can be quite as brave.’

Teddy’s face fell.  ‘I never thought a sailor could fight at all,’ he said, in a disappointed tone; ’I thought they just took care of our ships, and now and then fired a big gun off.’

‘Who’s been bringing up the sailors to you?’ asked his grandmother.

‘That little girl I told you of—­Nancy her name is.’

‘Where have you seen her?’

’Down by the brook; we fell into the water together, because we both wanted to cross at once.’

‘But, my boy, that was naughty for you not to give place to her,’ and Mrs. John spoke reprovingly.

’I know it was, mother, but I wasn’t going to turn back.  That would be running away from the enemy.  You see, we met in the middle, and she’s not at all a nice girl, and she’s so proud and stuck up about the sailors!’

‘As proud as you are of the redcoats, I guess!’ old Mrs. Platt said.

‘Do sailors and soldiers like each other?’ questioned Teddy, ignoring the thrust.

‘I am sure I don’t know,’ his mother answered, smiling.  ’I have never seen them together that I remember, but I should think they did.  They both fight for their queen and country.’

’Well, I’m a soldier’s son, and I don’t like a sailor’s daughter, I know that!  I think she is a kind of enemy.’

‘Oh, hush! sonny.  You must have no enemies.  It is wrong to talk so.’

‘That’s what he was a-sayin’ to me t’other day,’ put in his uncle slowly; ‘he says he wants one.’

‘Yes, I do,’ and Teddy gave a fervent nod as he spoke; ’and, mother, I believe most good people have enemies, so it must be right to have one.’

‘They never make one, as you’re trying to do.’

Teddy looked puzzled.

‘Well,’ he said presently, ’I expect it’s because she’s a stranger.  She doesn’t belong to our village.  I don’t like strangers.’

‘She’s no more a stranger than you were when you first came here,’ his mother said; ’and the fact of her being a stranger ought to make you kind to her.’

‘I’m thinking of calling on her mother,’ old Mrs. Platt said, looking at her little grandson with her keen grey eyes; ’shall I take you with me to see the little girl?’

‘I’ve seen her enough, granny.  Please, I think I’d rather not.’