"I'll slip into an arm-chair," I said, glancing at the comfortable one I had just quitted.
"No, horses don't slip into arm-chairs; there aren't no arm-chairs for them in the road," he objected.
"I can't help that," I answered, taking a stand. "My bones are too old to risk breaking them. I don't mind my leg being broken in fancy, but I do mind its being broken in reality."
"How shall everyone know, then, that it is broken?" he asked, discontentedly. "It won't look a bit as if it is broken if you fall into an arm-chair."
"I will groan very loud to show that I have," I said in a propitiating voice.
"Do horses groan when they break their legs?" he asked, doubtfully.
"This horse does, very loud indeed," I said. "Come, we'll go once more round the room, and then I'll break my leg and show you how beautifully I can groan."
"All right!" said the little beggar, conceding the point, and away we started once more.
"Gee-up, Charlie!" he cried; "gee-up, good horse! Now then!" as we approached the arm-chair; "now then, now then, it's time for you to break your leg. Quick, quick!"
"All right!" I said, and with the most heartrending groan I could produce, I sank--carefully--into the chair. At the same moment the door opened, and a stranger to me entered the room--a tall and soldier-like-looking young man. Even in the dimness of the twilight I could see a strong enough resemblance to the little beggar to tell me who he was without his delighted scream of "Uncle Godfrey! Uncle Godfrey!" as he ran and clasped him round the knees.
"Hold on!" answered Uncle Godfrey, putting him aside.
"I fear you are ill. Shall I send for my mother's maid?" he asked with polite sympathy.
"Why, no; she isn't; she isn't a bit ill!" cried the little beggar delightedly, with peals of derisive laughter, as he jumped about and clapped his hands. "She's only a poor, old, lame horse, what has just fallen down and broken his leg...."
If ever there was a case of hero-worship it was the worship by Chris of his uncle. To the little beggar, Uncle Godfrey was the ideal of all that was most manly, most noble, most heroic. To emulate him in every way was his most ardent desire, and with this end in view he imitated him whenever possible, to the smallest details.