went to pieces. And then, without uttering a sound, each of the
little balls suddenly went his way, and a moment afterwards there
was not a sparrow to be seen about the whole Parsonage.

Little Ansgarius had watched the battle of the sparrows with lively
interest. For, in his eyes, it was a great engagement, with charges
and cavalry skirmishes. He was reading _Universal History_ and the
_History of Norway_ with his father, and therefore everything that
happened about the house assumed a martial aspect in one way or
another. When the cows came home in the evening, they ware great
columns of infantry advancing; the hens were the volunteer forces,
and the cock was Burgomaster Nansen.

Ansgarius was a clever boy, who had all his dates at his fingers'
ends; but he had no idea of the meaning of time. Accordingly, he
jumbled together Napoleon and Eric Blood-Axe and Tiberius; and on
the ships which he saw sailing by in the offing he imagined
Tordenskiold doing battle, now with Vikings, and now with the
Spanish Armada.

In a secret den behind the summer-house he kept a red broom-stick,
which was called Bucephalus. It was his delight to prance about the
garden with his steed between his legs, and a flowerstick in his
hand.

A little way from the garden there was a hillock with a few small
trees upon it. Here he could lie in ambush and keep watch far and
wide over the heathery levels and the open sea.

He never failed to descry one danger or another drawing near;