the water?

Why would no one explain such things to him? Nay, what a pity
everyone treated it as mere childish folly in him to be thus
interested! They did not quite dare to beat him for it--that was one
use of being a baron. Indeed, one day when Simon Bunce struck him
sharply and hard over the shoulders for dragging home a great piece
of sea-weed with numerous curious creatures upon it, Goodwife Dolly
rushed out and made such an outcry that the esquire was fain to
excuse himself by declaring that it was time that my lord should know
how to bide a buffet, and answer it. He was ready and glad to meet
the stroke in return! 'Come on, sir!'

And Hob put a stout headless lance in the boy's hand, while Simon
stood up straight before him. Hob adjusted the weapon in his inert
hand, and told him how and where to strike. But 'It is not in sooth.
I don't want to hurt Master Simon,' said the child, as they laughed,
and yet with displeasure as his blow fell weak and uncertain.

'Is it a mouse's tail?' cried Simon in derision.

'Come, sir, try again,' said Hob. 'Strike as you did when the black
bull came down. Why cannot you do the like now, when you are
tingling from Bunce's stroke?'

'Ah! then I thought the bull would fall on Piers,' said Hal.

'Come on, think so now, sir. One blow to do my heart good, and show
you have the arm of your forebears.'