"Thou art a clever lad," said the young lieutenant-governor, "and I must
have described it well. Let as have a look at it, Friend Wynne."

But my mother, seeing that William Logan and Friend Pemberton were silent
and grave, and that my father looked ill pleased, made haste to make
excuse, because it was springtime and the annual house-cleaning was going
on.

Mr. Penn cried out merrily, "I see that the elders are shocked at thee,
Friend Wynne, because of these vanities of arms and pictures; but there is
good heraldry on the tankard out of which I drank James Pemberton's beer
yesterday. Fie, fie, Friend James!" Then he bowed to my mother very
courteously, and said to my father, "I hope I have not got thy boy into
difficulties because I reminded him that he is come of gentles."

"No, no," said my mother.

"I know the arms, madam, and well too: quarterly, three eagles displayed in
fesse, and--"

"Thou wilt pardon me, Friend Penn," said my father, curtly. "These are the
follies of a world which concerns not those of our society. The lad's aunt
has put enough of such nonsense into his head already."

"Let it pass, then," returned the young lieutenant-governor, with good
humour; "but I hope, as I said, that I have made no trouble for this stout
boy of thine."

My father replied deliberately, "There is no harm done." He was too proud