Wallypugland.
“Of course not,” replied the Cockatoo; “you’re not a domestic animal, are you?”
“Sure an I am that same in me own counthry,” said the Pig, who was evidently of Irish descent.
“Och down with the dirthy landlords thin,” screamed the Cockatoo, which caused the Pig to laugh and put him in a good temper again.
“I couldn’t bring the old joke along after all,” whispered the Crocodile to me, as we squeezed through the door; “he is more feeble than ever.” “How’s Kis-Smee?”
“Quite well, I think, thank you,” I replied.
“Isn’t he delightfully fat,” whispered the Crocodile, smacking his lips. “About three nice large mouthfuls, I should say,” he concluded mysteriously, winking one eye at me.
I haven’t the remotest idea what he meant, and besides I hadn’t time to think about it then, for the meeting was about to commence.
We all found seats, and A. Fish, Esq., being called upon to open the proceedings, he commenced his learned treatise upon the “Unreasonableness of Misunderstandability.”