A few days afterwards there was celebrated with great pomp the wedding of the nephew and pupil of William W. Kolderup. That the young couple were made much of by all the friends of the wealthy merchant can easily be imagined.
At the ceremony Tartlet was perfect in bearing, in everything, and the pupil did honour to the celebrated professor of dancing and deportment.
Now Tartlet had an idea. Not being able to mount his crocodile on a scarf-pin—and much he regretted it—he resolved to have it stuffed. The animal prepared in this fashion—hung from the ceiling, with the jaws half open, and the paws outspread—would make a fine ornament for his room. The crocodile was consequently sent to a famous taxidermist, and he brought it back to Tartlet a few days afterwards. Every one came to admire the monster who had almost made a meal of Tartlet.
"You know, Mr. Kolderup, where the animal came from?" said the celebrated taxidermist, presenting his bill.
"No, I do not," answered Uncle Will.
"But it had a label underneath its carapace."
"A label!" exclaimed Godfrey.
"Here it is," said the celebrated taxidermist.
And he held out a piece of leather on which, in indelible ink, were written these words,—
"From Hagenbeck, Hamburg,
"To J. R. Taskinar, Stockton, U.S.A."