It's queer--very queer; and he is as much afraid of a horse as I am--of--I don't know what." The Squire's memory failed to answer the call.

"What are you grinning at, you young scamp ?" "Oh, Mr.Rivers did say, Uncle Jim, something about bats." "Yes, that's it--bats--and I do suppose every one has his especial fear.
Ah! quite inexplicable nonsense!--fears like mine about bats, or your aunt's about dogs, but also fears that make a man afraid that he will not face a danger that is a duty.

When we had smallpox at the mills, soon after Rivers came here, he went to the mill-town and lived there a month, and nursed the sick and buried the dead.

At last he took the disease lightly, but it left a mark or two on his forehead.

That I call--well, heroic.