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Albert's uncle said, of course, no one could be sure that the dragon's teeth hadn't come up in the good old-fashioned way, but that, on the other hand, it was barely possible that both the British and the enemy were only volunteers having a field-day or sham fight, and he rather thought the Cocked-Hatted Man was not a general, but a doctor.
In old-world Guildford, the county town of Surrey, with its steep High Street containing many seventeenth-century houses, its old inns, and its balconied Guildhall the scene of so many unseemly wrangles among the robed and cocked-hatted borough councillors who are, par excellence, outstanding illustrations of the provincial petty jealousies of bumbledom Mrs.
'Can you show me the place where they are on the map? he asked. 'Not on the map, we can't, said Dicky 'at least, I don't think so, but on the ground we could. We could take you there in a quarter of an hour. The Cocked-Hatted One looked at the Colonel, who returned his scrutiny, then he shrugged his shoulders. 'Well, we've got to do something, he said, as if to himself. 'Lead on, Macduff.
And if we did cause all this fighting, and get Maidstone threatened with capture and all that, it was only because we didn't believe Greek things could happen in Great Britain and Ireland, even if you sow dragon's teeth, and besides, some of us were not as e a out sowing them. Then the Cocked-Hatted One led his horse and walked with us and made us tell him all about it, and so did the Colonel.
"Say that agen!" blustered the cocked-hatted leader. Paul said it again and nothing happened, Billy received vociferous and sanguinary advice couched in sanguinary terms. "Try and hit me!" said Billy. The scene was oddly parallel with one in the story of the outcast boy of the gutter. Paul, conscious of experiment, calmly went up to him and kicked him. He kicked him hard.
The Colonel roused his soldiery from their stupor of pipes by words of command which the present author is sorry he can't remember. Then he bade us boys lead the way. I tell you it felt fine, marching at the head of a regiment. Alice got a lift on the Cocked-Hatted One's horse. It was a red-roan steed of might, exactly as if it had been in a ballad.
When the fight began, and the rattling musketry, to say nothing of booming artillery, created such a smoke that no unmilitary person could make head or tail of anything, the 49th Middlesex took advantage of a hollow, and executed a flank movement that would have done credit to the 42nd Highlanders, and even drew forth an approving nod and smile from the reviewing officer, who with his cocked-hatted staff witnessed the movement from an eminence which was swept by a devastating cross-fire from every part of the field.
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