Military genius, indeed! Pooh!"
"Dinner ready yet?" the Baron enquired, as he hurried into the room.
"Will be in a few minutes," the Vice-Warden replied. "Meanwhile, let's
take a turn in the garden. You were telling me," he continued,
as the trio left the house, "something about a great battle in which
you had the command of the infantry--"
"True," said the Baron. "The enemy, as I was saying, far outnumbered us:
but I marched my men right into the middle of--what's that?"
the Military Hero exclaimed in agitated tones, drawing back behind the
Vice-Warden, as a strange creature rushed wildly upon them, brandishing
a spade.
"It's only the Gardener!" the Vice-Warden replied in an encouraging tone.
"Quite harmless, I assure you. Hark, he's singing!
Its his favorite amusement."
And once more those shrill discordant tones rang out:--
"He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk
Descending from the bus:
He looked again, and found it was
A Hippopotamus:
'If this should stay to dine,' he said,
'There won't be mutch for us!'"
Throwing away the spade, he broke into a frantic jig, snapping his
fingers, and repeating, again and again,
"There won't be much for us!
There won't be much for us!"
[Image...It was a hippoptamus]
Once more the Baron looked slightly offended, but the Vice-Warden
hastily explained that the song had no allusion to him,
and in fact had no meaning at all.
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