Milburd's man is Byrton. Mine is Soames. I have an instinctive dislike to Byrton, I don't know why, perhaps because I perceive a certain amount of feeling against Soames.
Boodels' Proposal.—That we should meet once a week to determine whose invitations should be renewed, and whose congé should be given.
As President I say, “Well, but I can't tell our guests that they must go.”
Cazell strikes in, “I tell you what we ought to do—only ask everyone for a week, and then, if we like them, we can ask 'em to stop on.”
Agreed.—That we take these matters into weekly consideration.
Milburd wishes to know who is to order dinner every day.
Happy Thought.—Take it in turn, and I'll begin as President.
Boodels, when this has been agreed to, says that we ought to have good dogs about and outside a large house like that.
I tell them that there is one—a very fierce beast.
Boodels says he's sure I must be mistaken, as they went all over the house, and there was only a little snarling, growling puppy making darts at a mouse, or a rat, which he saw moving behind some door which was locked.