"A beetle on your arm!" cried my Lady, pinching the poor Baron's arm
worse than if ten lobsters had seized it at once.
"That kind is poisonous," she explained. "But what a pity!
You missed seeing the fish pulled out!"
An enormous dead cod-fish was lying on the bank, with the hook in its
mouth.
"I had always fancied," the Baron faltered, "that cod were salt-water
fish?"
"Not in this country," said the Vice-Warden. "Shall we go in?
Ask my son some question on the way any subject you like!"
And the sulky boy was violently shoved forwards, to walk at the Baron's
side.
"Could your Highness tell me," the Baron cautiously began,
"how much seven times nine would come to?"
"Turn to the left!" cried the Vice-Warden, hastily stepping forwards to
show the way---so hastily, that he ran against his unfortunate guest,
who fell heavily on his face.
"So sorry!" my Lady exclaimed, as she and her husband helped him to his
feet again. "My son was in the act of saying 'sixty-three' as you fell!"
The Baron said nothing: he was covered with dust, and seemed much hurt,
both in body and mind. However, when they had got him into the house,
and given him a good brushing, matters looked a little better.
Dinner was served in due course, and every fresh dish seemed to
increase the good-humour of the Baron: but all efforts, to get him to
express his opinion as to Uggug's cleverness, were in vain, until that
interesting youth had left the room, and was seen from the open window,
prowling about the lawn with a little basket, which he was filling with
frogs.
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