The book was brought at once. Her father wrote out the nonsense verse on his knee and made a funny little illustration in the margin. 'Oh, I say!' said Jimbo, watching him, while Monkey, lapsing into French, contributed with her usual impudence, 'Pas tant mal!' They all loved the illustrations.
The general interest, then, as the way is with children, puppies, and other young Inconsistencies, centred upon the contents of the book. They eagerly turned the pages, as though they did not know its contents by heart already. They praised for the hundredth time the drawing of the Muddle Animal who
Hung its hopes upon a nail
Or laid them on the shelf;
Then pricked its conscience with its tail,
And sat upon itself.
They looked also with considerable approval upon the drawings and descriptions of the Muddle Man whose manners towards the rest of the world were cool; because
He saw things with his naked eye,
That's why his glance was chilly.
But the explanation of the disasters he caused everywhere by his disagreeable sharpness of speech and behaviour did not amuse them. They observed as usual that it was 'too impossible'; the drawings, moreover, did not quite convince:—
So cutting was his speaking tone
Each phrase snipped off a button,
So sharp his words, they have been known
To carve a leg of mutton;
He shaved himself with sentences,
And when he went to dances,
He made—Oh shocking tendencies!-
Deep holes with piercing glances.
But on the last page the Muddle Man behaved so badly, was so positively indecent in his conduct, that he was persuaded to disappear altogether; and his manner of extinguishing himself in the illustration delighted the children far more than the verse whose fun again escaped them:—
They observed he was indecent,
But he said it wasn't true,
For he pronounced it 'in descent'—
Then disappeared from view!
Mother's alleged 'second sight' was also attributed to the fact that she 'looked twice before she leaped'—and the drawing of that leap never failed to produce high spirits. For her calm and steady way of walking—sailing—had earned her the name of the frigate—and this was also illustrated, with various winds, all coloured, driving her along.