"HIT him again, Torre! harder, oh harder, ever so much! Mind! he's got a stone! Oh, the great coward!"
Thus shrilled a little girl as she danced, wild with excitement, around two boys, one considerably the stouter and heavier, who were doggedly pummelling each other in a secluded spot of garden hidden from the house by a thick grove of laurels.
As she spoke, the bigger of the combatants paused a minute to shake his fist at her, and his opponent, a much slighter and younger lad, seizing his opportunity, rushed in and planted such a shrewd fist on the other's nose that the blood began to flow pretty freely. Wild with the pain of the blow, he ran close up to the other boy, and, when only a foot or so away, with all his strength hurled a piece of rock he had picked up from a miniature mountain fernery close at hand. As luck would have it his opponent moved his head slightly, and the jagged stone, in place of hitting fairly, and probably killing him, only cut a shallow groove across his forehead. But in a second his face was streaming with blood. The little girl screamed with fright and ran away as the lad, wiping his eyes clear, sprang like a wild cat at the other's throat, got one arm around it, and bending his head down into chancery punched it with such hearty goodwill that it was soon of the same colour as his own, whilst the loud bellowing of the sufferer could be heard all over the garden.
|Product dimensions:||6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.57(d)|