ry he had interrupted us, for I yearned towards Mops, and I felt
that further conversation with me would be acceptable to her, but we were
swept away in the stampede for food to the basement kitchens.

They seemed immense to me, and full of the jolliest servants I had ever
seen. Two men-servants in livery were playing a game of cribbage at one end
of a long littered table, while several laughing maid-servants hung over
their shoulders. The game was suspended at our entrance, and they all
turned to ask us questions and chaff us about our appearance. One of the
fox terriers jumped on the table and began nosing among the saucepans.
Nobody stopped him. The fat, good-natured cook busied herself in spreading
bread and butter with Sultana raisins for us; the maid-servants made a
great fuss over The Seraph.

In such a whirlwind did this family live that just as I was beginning to
feel at ease in this extraordinary kitchen, I was rushed back to the garden
to play, a somewhat solid feeling in my stomach telling me that the bread
and Sultanas had arrived.

"Hurrah for stilts," screamed Mops.

"Just the thing," assented Simon. "Here young Bunny and Bill, fetch the
stilts, and be sharp about it--hear?" and he gave them each a punch in the
ribs.

Thus encouraged, Bunny and Bill scampered across the grass, the
fox-terriers yelping at their heels, and, from a convenient out-house all
sizes of stilts were produced.

These accomplished children could do all manner of amazing feats on the
stilts; even little Bill laughed at our awkward attempts. But, after many
falls, Angel and I could limp haltingly about the garden, and experienced
the new joy of looking down at things instead of up.

We noticed presently that Simon was propped against the high wall that
divided this garden from the next. In a moment he called to us:

"Toddle over here and see what the old girls are doing."

"Who does he mean?" I asked Mops, as we moved stiffly, side by side.

"It's the Unaquarium parson's garden," she said. "I expect they're having a
tea-fight. They're always up to something fishy."

Something ominous in the words should have warned me, but I was too elated
to be heedful of signs or portents. I clutched the wall, and, with a grin
of amusement, gazed down at the group of ladies, who, with two gentlemen in
black, were drinking tea on the lawn.

Bunny threw a green pear at the thin legs of the taller gentleman.

The gentleman shied in a most