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Sprinkler, free once more, cast his eyes about, stretched out his

hands, sought for a weapon, shouted for a weapon; meanwhile he

brandished his fists, standing his ground manfully, but keeping

close to the side of Gerwazy, until he caught sight of his son

Buzzard in the press. Buzzard with his right hand was aiming a

blunderbuss, and with his left was pulling after him a great

club, a fathom long, armed with flints and knobs and knots.163

(No one could have lifted it except Baptist.) Baptist, when he

saw his darling weapon, his sprinkling-brush, seized it, kissed

it, jumped into the air for joy, whirled it over his head and

straightway moistened it.