"Look here, Blacksmith, he's showing the white feather." "Ho! ho!" laughed Smith.

"Come, Gnat, I thought you had a little more spirit in you.

Serve the beggars right." "Yes, I know that," I said firmly enough now, as I looked at their faces, which, in spite of the masks they had assumed, looked ghastly; "and I daresay I haven't pluck enough to sit it out.

But I don't care for your grins; I'm not ashamed to say that I shall go." "Oh, well, if you feel that it would upset you," said Barkins, in a tone of voice full of protest, "I suppose that we had better see you off, and go somewhere else." "Poof!" ejaculated Smith in a low tone.

"Look at him, Gnat; he's in just as much of a stew as you are.