shall not these hands Fire his gates, and make the flame to climb Up to the pinnacles with burning brands, And on his cinders wreak my cruel teen?

Bravely the horse stepped out for its week's journey, and bravely its rider sat, leaving me and the shadeless, wooden sun-baked house on the side of the hill, with the regretlessness of teensespecially masculine teens.

Looking up they saw another group of three: an oldish man, a slim young fellow who was almost a grown man and a girl in her middle teens.

f-o-u-r-teen years!