“In you go,” he continued, digging a hole with the point of his mailed foot, and sticking the rosebush into it.
“Hullo!” he exclaimed, going up to another one, at the foot of which were some broken twigs and crumpled leaves. “You’ve been fighting, have you? I say, it’s really too bad!”
“But what does it matter to you?” I inquired. “It’s very sad, no doubt, but I don’t see why you should upset yourself so greatly about it.”
“Well, you see,” was the reply, “I’m the head gardener here as well as Troubadour, and so am responsible for all these things. I do troubing as an extra,” he explained. “Three shillings a week and my armor. Little enough, isn’t it, considering the risk?”
“Well, the office certainly does not seem overpopular, judging from last night,” I laughed. “Who were you serenading?”
“Oh, any one,” was the reply. “I give it to them in turns. If any one offends me in the daytime I pay them out at night, see?
“I serenaded the Sister-in-Law mostly, but I shall give that up. She doesn’t play fair. I don’t mind people shying things at me in the least, for you see I’m pretty well protected; but when it comes to chivying me round the garden with a pair of tongs, it’s more than I bargained for. Look out! Here comes the Wallypug,” he continued.
Sure enough his Majesty was walking down the path, attended by A. Fish, Esq., who was wearing a cap and gown and carrying a huge book.
“Ah! good morning—good morning,” cried his Majesty, hurrying towards me. “I’d no idea you were out and about so early. I’m just having my usual morning lesson.”