"Now," she continued, "I'm going to hit you in the face!"
which she immediately did, though lightly and with her open hand. "Now
hit me if you can, Peregrine."
But though I tried my best, she was so wonderfully quick and light
upon her feet that I smote but empty air or my blows were parried,
while her hands flashed, now here, now there, to pat and tap my face
as often as she would. So we sparred together until, flushed and
laughing and breathless, we paused by common consent.
And thus I had my first lesson in the Noble Art.
"You do be very light o' your feet!" said she as we sat side by side
beneath the tree again, "and much quicker than I thought, Peregrine!"
"I--I'm glad--very glad you think so!" I answered vastly elated by
this praise.
"Yes, if you had proper teaching, you might be able to take your part
against most o' them."
Now at this I became filled with such a glow of pleasure as amazed me
by its intensity, such indeed as no praise from tutors or even my
loved aunt Julia had ever inspired.
"Though to be sure," she added, "'t would all depend on whether you
was game-plucked. No, size don't always count; why, Jessamy Todd
ain't--is not--much bigger than you."
"And who is he?"
"Lord, haven't you heard? Why, Jessamy was one of the greatest,
fiercest fighters that ever was, they say! But he had the ill-luck to
kill a man and turned religious."
"Do you know him?"
"Very well. I've heard him preach often.
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