"Now, boys, a Yankee tiger.

Waggle the glass well, Gnat.

All together.

Hurrah--rah--rah--rah--rah!" We produced as good an imitation of the American cheer as we could, and Ching supplemented it with a hideous crack-voiced yell, while I raised and lowered the glass and struck another match.
As we looked up the street we could see part of the mob still running hard, but the swordsmen had taken refuge to right and left, in doorways, angles, and in side shops, and were peering round at us, watching every movement.
"No' laugh!" said Ching anxiously.

"Big fool.