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"A emeny's d emeny. Like on de pickshur in Aunt Polly's room. One ... one's de English, an' one's de emeny." "It's the Battle of Waterloo," explained Polly. "He stands in front of it every day." "Yes. An' when I'm a big man, I'm goin' to be a sojer, an' wear a red coat, an' make 'bung'!" and he shot an imaginary gun at his sister, who squealed and ducked her head.
"I mean ..." Young John squeezed his last mouthful over his windpipe and raised his plate. "I mean, you look just like you was seein' a emeny. More puddin', Aunt Polly!" "What does the child mean? An anemone?" "NO!" said John with the immense contempt of five years. "I didn't say anner emeny." Here, he began to tuck in anew, aiding the slow work of his spoon with his more habile fingers.
Wentworth nodded without replying. His eye lighted on Blake who had been seemingly forgotten in the confusion and on Richard. A kindliness for the man who met his end so unflinchingly, a respect for so worthy an emeny, actuated the red-faced captain. "You had better take yourself off, Sir Rowland," said he. "And you, Mr. Westmacott you can wait in the passage with my men."
"An ancient wish, my son," said Mahony, when Johnny had been reproved and Trotty comforted. "Tom-thumbs like you have voiced it since the world or rather since war first began." "Don't care. Nunkey, why is de English and why is de emeny?" But Mahony shrank from the gush of whats and whys he would let loose on himself, did he attempt to answer this question.
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