They were pretty, blue-eyed, yellow-haired lads, well made and sturdy, with bronzed skins, which spoke of a woodland life.
"Here are young chips from an old bow stave!" cried the soldier in great delight.

"This is the proper way to raise children.

By my hilt! I could not have trained them better had I the ordering of it myself." "What is it then ?" asked Hordle John.

"They stand very stiff, and I trust that they have not been struck so." "Nay, they are training their left arms, that they may have a steady grasp of the bow.

So my own father trained me, and six days a week I held out his walking-staff till my arm was heavy as lead.