free and sound a growth,' etc.

Richard Naseby read the whole thing from beginning to end;

and a crushing shame fell upon his spirit. His father had

played the fool; he had gone out noisily to war, and come

back with confusion. The moment that his trumpets sounded,

he had been disgracefully unhorsed. There was no question as

to the facts; they were one and all against the Squire.

Richard would have given his ears to have suppressed the

issue; but as that could not be done, he had his horse

saddled, and furnishing himself with a convenient staff, rode

off at once to Thymebury.

The editor was at breakfast in a large, sad apartment. The

absence of furniture, the extreme meanness of the meal, and

the haggard, bright-eyed, consumptive look of the culprit,

unmanned our hero; but he clung to his stick, and was stout

and warlike.

'You wrote the article in this morning's paper?' he demanded.

'You are young Mr. Naseby? I PUBLISHED it,' replied the

editor, rising.

My father is an old man,' said Richard; and then with an

outburst, 'And a damned sight finer fellow than either you or

Tales and Fantasies