being a prince! A thousand times, as a lad, he had wished that he
could have a few "weeks off" from being what he was and be just a
common, ordinary, harum scarum boy, like the "kids" of Petrove, the
head stableman. He would even have put up with the thrashings they
got from their father, just for the sake of enjoying the mischief
that purchased the punishment. But alas! no one would ever dream of
giving him the lovely "tannings" that other boys got when they were
naughty. Such joys were not for him; he was mildly reproved and that
was all. But his valiant spirit found release in many a glorious
though secret encounter with boys both large and small, and not
infrequently he sustained severe pummelings at the hands of plebeians
who never were quite sure that they wouldn't be beheaded for obliging
him in the matter of a "scrap," but who fought like little wild-cats
while they were about it. They were always fair fights, for he fought
as a boy and not as a prince. He took his lickings like a prince,
however, and his victories like a boy. The one thing he wanted to do
above all others was to play foot-ball. But they taught him fencing,
riding, shooting and tennis instead, for, said they, foot-ball is
only to be looked-at, not played,--fine argument, said Robin!

Be that as it may, he was physically intact and bodily perfect. He
had no broken nose, smashed ribs, stiff shoulder joints or weak
ankles, nor was he toothless. In all his ambitious young life he had
never achieved anything more enduring than a bloody nose, a cracked
lip or a purple eye, and he had been compelled to struggle pretty
hard for even those blessings. And to him the pity of it all was that
he was as hard as nails and as strong as a bullock--a sad waste, if
one were to believe him in his bitter lamentations.

Toward the end of his first week at Red Roof, the summer home of the