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my sister, especially, was very expert. I shall never forget the man running at us, with his spade before his face; a charge which, as our weapons were not very 'Spartan,' ended the engagement at once. He took us both prisoners, and the punishment he inflicted was not without some tincture of retributive justice; for he tossed us upon the top of a quickset hedge, and there left us. After some furious crying, we found we were not much hurt. I remember, amidst my trouble, inquiring if she had read of any Spartans who had been served as we were?—an idea that instantly converted her tears to laughter, as she said, 'Very like Spartans, indeed!' In about half an hour the gardener came, accepted our promises, and lifted us down."

This gardener is the hero of another story, which must be related, as it introduces the little L. E. L. in the character of a preceptor. "He was almost thirty years old," says Mr. Landon, "had not the slightest acquaintance with the alphabet, but was anxious to learn. My sister, assisted by me, taught him first his letters, then to spell, to read, and at last, to write. It was at the spelling-stage that we were most amused. We used to pick out the 'hard words' for his lessons, and it was our delight to laugh at his extraordinary mistakes, some of which were, no doubt, intentional ones, designed to make fun for us. When I went to school, at eight years of age, he became Letitia's pupil solely. He carried a small dictionary, her gift, in his hat, and would con over a word while at work, and then append to one of us for the meaning; the explanation generally increasing his difficulty, because it brought more words with it. The dictionary was, with him, the one book needful; he was convinced that if he could but master that, all others would