"No, the water was too deep. He sheathed his sword, and faint and weary though he was, plunged into the raging flood."
"The water was very high, his armour was heavy, and his wound pained him severely; but he kept on. The blood ran down upon his hands, and he sank again and again; but he still swam on till not only the Romans, but the great army on the other bank cheered him and prayed for him.
"And when he finally clambered out upon the shore, weary and weak and worn, they shouted and clapped their hands for very joy." The ringing words came involuntarily to Miss Billy's lips:
"'And still his name sounds stirring Unto the men of Rome, As the trumpet-blast that cries to them To charge the Volscian home; And wives still pray to Juno For boys with hearts as bold As his who kept the bridge so well In the brave days of old.'"
"And the big army didn't ever get in?" asked Frank Murphy.
"What did they do to Horashuss?" inquired Launcelot.
"Oh, they gave him a lot of land, for his own, and they set up a great statue of him."
"I seen statutes already," said Abraham Levi.
"I did too. I seen 'em in the summitery."
"He means the grave yard," explained Ginevra. "Aaron, stop hitting your little brother."
"He's a-swipin' my seeds," complained Aaron.
"Well, stop it, both of you," said Launcelot decidedly, "or Miss Billy'll give you a bat in the eye."
The threat had the desired effect. Both of the little Levis subsided suddenly.
"You may take the seeds home and plant them yourselves," said Miss Billy. "There are nasturtiums and petunias to put into a bed and morning glories and flowering beans to train over porches. We'll all have gardens of our own."
"You've got a pretty yard," said Ginevra wistfully.
"It's getting green," responded Miss Billy. "The grass seed is all coming up over the bare spots. Now if you had a green lawn extending to ours, and that shabby old fence between us was down----"
"Why don't you pull it down?" inquired Launcelot.
"I know Mr. Schultzsky would never let me," said Miss Billy. "I wouldn't dare ask him. But it's so old and rotten that some day it will just fall down itself, and then we'll have a barberry hedge there, and the yard will begin to look like something."
"What's a berbarry haige?" inquired Launcelot.