I never saw a man so easily tickled. In the ecstasy of his mirth he capered about like a dancing bear, while his laughter rang out till it woke the echoes in old Mettenberg which frowned above us. The noise drew a number of the hotel guests to the door, and others peered through the windows at him.
“They’ll think it’s a circus,” said I, innocently.
“A circus. Ha! ha! how forcible, and so funny—just like you Americans! And perhaps you’ll next say I’m the performing clown.” And that idea started Corduroy off in another fit of laughter.
“That’s about the size of it.”
“The size of it! How good! So humorous, you know. Ha! ha!”
“You seem to catch on to American slang like a native,” said I.
“Catch on. Ha! ha! Well, that’s the best yet. A sort of figure of speech meaning to seize something as it flies, I suppose.”
“You have got it down fine.”
Corduroy laughed gently in an accommodating spirit; but I do not think he caught the precise meaning of this last expression. He made no comment on it, and I was glad he did not ask me to explain it, for I could not have done so.