THINGS BY THEIR RIGHT NAMES.
Charles.Papa, you grow very lazy. Last winter you used to tell us stories, and now you never tell us any; and we are all got round the fire quite ready to hear you. Pray, dear papa, let us have a very pretty one.
Father.With all my heart—What shall it be?
Ch.A bloody murder, papa!
Fa.A bloody murder! Well then—once upon a time some men dressed all alike....
Ch.With black crapes over their faces?
Fa.No; they had steel caps on.—having crossed a dark heath, wound cautiously along the skirts of a deep forest....
Ch.They were ill-looking fellows, I dare say?
Fa.I cannot say so; on the contrary, they were as tall, personable men as most one shall see: leaving on their right hand an old ruined tower on the hill....
Ch.At midnight, just as the clock struck twelve; was it not, papa?
Fa.No, really; it was on a fine balmy summer’s morning;—they moved forward, one behind another....
Ch.As still as death, creeping along under the hedges?
Fa.On the contrary—they walked remarkably upright; and so far from endeavouring to be hushed and still, they made a loud noise as they came along, with several sorts of instruments.
Ch.But, papa, they would be found out immediately.
Fa.They did not seem to wish to conceal themselves: on the contrary, they gloried in what they were about. They moved forward, I say, to a large plain, where stood a neat pretty village which they set on fire.
Ch.Set a village on fire, wicked wretches!
Fa.And while it was burning they murdered—twenty thousand men.
Ch.O fie! papa! You don’t intend I should believe this; I thought all along you were making up a tale, as you often do; but you shall not catch me this time. What! they lay still, I suppose, and let these fellows cut their throats?
Fa.No, truly, they resisted as long as they could.
Ch.How should these men kill twenty thousand people, pray?
Fa.Why not? themurdererswere thirty thousand.
Ch.O, now I have found you out! you mean aBATTLE.
Fa.Indeed I do. I do not know anymurdershalf so bloody.
EVENING IX.
EVENING IX.
EVENING IX.