“They remind him of the Aurora Borealis, in the North Seas,” was the interpretation given out from the back of the head.
“I suppose you are a great traveller, Bruin,” demanded another querist.
“Wur bur ough hur.”
“He accompanied Sir John Ross in his polar expeditions,” was the response.
By this time every one enjoyed the humour of the conceit; and when Bruin placed the garland of flowers on the brow of Anita Mendoza, the belle of the ball-room, it was not ungraciously received by the blushing beauty, and raptures of applause approved the selection.
“You show a very fair taste, Mr Bruin,” said the smiling landlady.
“We represent Beauty and the Beast of the nursery tale,” was the meaning of the bur wur of the response.
“Can I offer you any thing to eat or drink?” demanded the landlady.
“Mr Bruin will trouble you for an ice and a young sea unicorn,” replied the transposed conductor.
“I hope you won’t eat any of us, Mr Bruin,” said one of the ring.