"The grand march!"

"Yes, and see here, aunty. I have only this chalk shield, and you don't
want your boy to go that way. Please let me take that old sword above the
sitting-room mantel-piece," pleaded Charlie, with beseeching eyes.

"Grandsir's sword? O that wont do. Why, that sword was at the battles of
Quebec and Banker Hill and Waterloo and--"

Constantia! In her loyalty to grandsir's memory, she was unconsciously
mentioning places he had never been in! All this array of names only fired
Charlie's ardor. At last Aunt Stanshy said, "There, take it! The next
thing, I spose, you'll want me."

"We may; but you'd have to dress up in man's clothes, you know."

"Never!" said Aunt Stanshy, firmly. "Don't go out of the lane with
grandsir's sword!"

"We'll be along soon."

"How will I know it? I may be up stairs."

"We will give three cheers under the window."

There was an increasing commotion in the barn chamber.

"Now, fellers!" exclaimed Sid Waters. "You won't be ready for the grand
march."