"What means the boy!" exclaimed Ole, laying down a book which he had been reading, and thrusting his spectacles up on his broad bald forehead.
"Exactly what the boy says," replied Master Corrie.
"Then add something more to it, pray." Thorwald said this in a mild tone; but he suddenly seized the handle of an old pewter mug which the lad knew, from experience, would certainly reach his head before he could gain the door if he did not behave; so he became polite, and condescended to explain his errand more fully.
"So, so," observed the descendant of the sea-kings, as he rose and slowly buckled on a huge old cavalry saber; "there is double mischief brewing this time.

Well, we shall see--we shall see.

Go, Corrie, my boy, and rouse up Terrence and Hugh, and--" "The whole army, in short," cried the boy, hastily; "you're so awfully slow, uncle, you should have been born in the last century I think." Further remark was cut short by the sudden discharge of the pewter mug, which, however, fell harmlessly on the panel of the closing door as the impertinent Corrie sped forth to call the settlement to arms..