"I think the wily foe have had enough," said Boadicea, several of the skittles having fallen. The bronze Buddha, unperturbed, was captured and bound to the chariot-wheels of the conqueror—and that was that. . . .
"Now I'm going to be the Standard-bearer of the Tenth Legion," stated the President, "also the Censurian. And the battle may end differently this time. Go and get that brown iron paper-knife from the drawing-room because its copper, and this is the Bronze Age."
The Vice obeyed.
"Make a jolly good Roman short sword," observed the President, examining it in this new light. "You'll have to be nippy with your shield, though—it's got rather an edge."
"I'll watch it," replied the Vice—using another of the unfortunate expressions learnt from Buster and his undesirable subaltern friends.
"What is your name?" he inquired. "I can't call you 'Thtandard-blarer of the Tenth Legium' the whole time, nor yet 'Cen-chew-rium'."
