"I'll have a lark with him, sir," said the tiger, laying his finger aside his nose, and winking knowingly. "You see!"
And walking nimbly and on tiptoe behind the old man, he soon caught up to him without his knowing it.
Murray halted at a little distance, ready to behold and enjoy the discomfiture of Mole.
The reader must be informed that the venerable Isaac was then experimenting upon a new substitute for those unfortunate much damaged members, his cork legs.
An American genius, with whom he had recently made acquaintance in the town, had induced Mole to try a pair of his "new patent-elastic-spring- non-fatiguing-self-regulating-undistinguishable-everlasting cork legs."
The inventor had helped Mr. Mole to put on these formidable "understandings," and given him every instruction with regard to their management.
"They'll be a little creaky at first," said the American; "nothing in nature works slick when it's quite new, but when you get 'em well into wear, they'll go along like greased lightning; now try them, old hoss."
Creaky indeed they were, for they made a noise almost as loud as a railway break; but what was even worse was that the Yankee had failed to inform Mole of the fact that the "new patent" etc., were only fitted to act perfectly on a smooth surface.
Now the roadway, or footway—for they are all the same in those old Turkish towns—are the very reverse of smooth, being principally composed of round nubbly stones.
Consequently Mole's locomotion was the reverse of pleasant.