Toby stood before her, with his hands in his pockets. His hump was on his back in its rightful place, and he looked exactly as he had looked the first time Freddie had seen him, standing in the doorway of the Old Tobacco Shop.
"I ain't been nowhere, Aunt Amanda," said Toby. "And I don't know where Mr. Punch is, neither. I ain't his guardian, anyway. The last I seen of him, as far as I remember, was in Shiraz's garden, lookin' round at the flowers. By crackey, if he can't take care
of himself, I ain't a-going to do it for him. Maybe the old gentleman here can tell you, if you want to know."
"Wait just a moment," said the old man. "I'll have him here immediately."
Mr. Punch laughed immoderately as he picked up his own father and tossed him in the air and hurled him across the room. The old man did not seem to mind it a bit, but joined in the laugh as he came down on his feet with a bounce. Mr. Punch was immediately himself again; his hump was on his back, his breast stuck out, his long-tailed coat and knee breeches were as before, and he looked as if he might just have stepped down from his wooden box beside the Tobacco Shop's door.
"Wery glad," said he, "to myke you acquainted with me old parent; and a wery good parent too, hif——"
"That's enough, Punch," said his father. "Now we'll bring on the Churchwarden."
In another moment the thin and saintly-looking Thomas the Inferior was gone, and in his place was the fat and comfortable Churchwarden, blinking at his friends through his round spectacles.
"I have been considering," said he, "that it would be highly desirable, after all I have passed through lately, to sit in my chair on the pavement against the wall of my church with a pipe and a newspaper; and I have concluded that——"
"We will now call Mr. Hanlon," said the old man.