"Well, Coco, how goes it? How are you, old block; and how are all the little chips? All cheerful and smiling as usual? Ah!"—catching sight of the two little girls—"You have guests, I see. Won't you present me?"
"With pleasure," replied the King. "Ladies, let me present the Archbishop of Timbuctoo-and-a-half. Archbishop, these are my friends, Margaret and Frances, who have done me the honor to come to my garden-party. And talking of garden-parties," he continued, "come along up to the palace and have some refreshment. Bring your cat, too. I expect he's hungry. What's his name?"
"Thomas A'Becket," replied the Archbishop. "Come on, Thomas!" he called to the cat. "Come and have some milk."
He was a jaunty young gentleman
But Thomas A'Becket declined. He looked at the Archbishop, but he stayed where he was.
"He's a little out of sorts today," remarked the Archbishop, "and if he has made up his mind to stay up there, it's no use trying to make him come down."
"Isn't it, though!" cried the dragon, hastily pulling off his boxing-gloves. "Just you wait a minute. I'll make him."
"Hallo, Lobsterneck!" exclaimed the Archbishop, giving the dragon a friendly tap on the head with his crozier. "You're here, are you? Glad to see you again, old gargoyle. So you think you can make Thomas A'Becket come down, do you? All right. Go ahead, and let's see how you do it."