"You see, sir," said old Mr. Parrot, when the three had met in consultation, "this black young fellow is an upstart; he has nothing to recommend him but his exceeding ugliness and his extreme inhospitality. Do you know, sir," he continued, addressing the conveyancer, "some ladies of my family paid him a visit the other day, and the brute—yes, sir, I say the brute—had the ill manners to send word by his attendant that His Highness was in the bath and would not be disturbed?"
"I wonder," growled Mr. Trunk, "that, as the ladies had so much curiosity, they did not go and see him in his bath."
"Well, the fact is," replied Mr. Parrot, "that they did try, but the monster would only just show them the tip of his nose."
"He has become quite a nuisance to the neighbourhood," said Mr. Trunk.
"I wonder," observed the conveyancer, "if the Alderman could put him down?"
"Put him down!" growled Trunk again; "the fellow's too fat. You might as well try to put down a whale!"
"Then what can we do?" said the conveyancer. "Could we manage to drown him in his bath?"
"A likely idea!" returned the great merchant. "Do you not know that the fellow lives half his life in the water, and can swim as well as a fish?"
"Can we bring an action for ejectment?" suggested Mr. Starling. "Can we not discover some flaw in his title-deeds?"
"I wish you'd try," answered the merchant. And the result of this conspiracy against the offending Prince was, that Mr. Starling, by some means best known to himself, obtained a copy of the title-deeds he wanted, and soon picked two or three holes in them.