“Neither,” said Vane, laughing heartily.
“Well, I—oh, but they are.”
“No.”
“What then?”
“Chub.”
“How do you know?”
“By the black edge round their tails.”
“I say!” cried Macey; “how do you know all these precious things so readily?”
“Walks with uncle,” replied Vane. “I don’t know much but he seems to know everything.”
“Why I thought he couldn’t know anything but about salts and senna, and bleeding, and people’s tongues when they put ’em out.”