“I shall make him pay for it,” declared the little man, and, during tea, which we had at wicker tables by the river’s edge, he was busy making out an account, which later he handed with great solemnity to the Wallypug. His Majesty apparently could not understand it, and passed it on to me. On examination, I found it to be worded as follows:
His Majesty the Wallypug of Why,
In account with
The Doctor-in-Law.
To damage of one hat, £0 7 6
” Physical injury, 0 2 0
” Moral deterioration, 15 6 9
————
£22 17 8
” 3 per cent. discount for cash, 3 6 2
————
£26 4 11
————
“What do you mean by moral deterioration?” demanded the Wallypug.
“Oh, I don’t know. Same as other people do, I suppose,” said the Doctor-in-Law. “It’s always charged now, I believe. I read something about it in the papers this afternoon.”
“But the addition is all wrong,” I expostulated.
“No, it isn’t,” replied the Doctor-in-Law, rudely snatching the document from me and putting it into his pocket-book, “and if it is, it’s nothing to do with you. I shall charge it in our expenses, which the people of Why have undertaken to pay, so there.” And the avaricious little fellow ran off to the boat, which we afterwards found he had been letting out on hire to small boys at a penny a head.
The return journey was accomplished without any remarkable incidents, and on reaching home I found a very pressing invitation from Girlie’s mother for the whole party to attend her “At Home” the next day.
It appears that this lady had called upon me while we were out, and Mrs. Putchy had told her of the Wallypug’s arrival.