Poor lad, he was lost at sea, you know.

Well, choose anything you like, and I 'll try to remember a story about it." Tom made a rapid rummage, and fished up a little broken pistol.
"There, that 's the chap for me! Wish it was n't spoilt, then we 'd have fun popping away at the cats in the yard.

Now, then, grandma." "I remember one of Jack's pranks, when that was used with great effect," said grandma, after a thoughtful pause, during which Tom teased the girls by snapping the lock of the pistol in their faces.
"Once upon a time," continued Madam, much flattered by the row of interested faces before her, "my father went away on business, leaving mother, aunt, and us girls to Jack's care.

Very proud he was, to be sure, of the responsibility, and the first thing he did was to load that pistol and keep it by his bed, in our great worriment, for we feared he 'd kill himself with it.

For a week all went well; then we were startled by the news that robbers were about.