Oh, what ignorant he is, oh, what a bar!" "Ninepence is a mislaird price for a soord," said Francie.

"I never gave ninepence." Tommy looked at him in the way that always made boys fidget with their fists.
"You're near as big a bar as him," he said scornfully.

"Did you ever see the sword that's hanging on the wall in the backroom at the post-office ?" "No, but my father has telled me about it.

It has a grand name." "It's an Andrea Ferrara, that's what it is." "Ay, I mind the name now; there has been folk killed wi' that soord." This was true, for the post-office Andrea Ferrara has a stirring history, but for the present its price was the important thing.

"Dr.
McQueen offered a pound note for it," said Tommy.
"I ken that, but what has it to do wi' the soord-swallower ?" "Just this; that the swords he is selling for ninepence are Andrea Ferraras, the same as the post-office ones, and he could get a pound a piece for them if he kent their worth.