peevishly. "I'm sorry
I gave 'em such a staggerer to begin with."

"Pooh!" said Davy, contemptuously. "If they couldn't do that sum they
couldn't do anything."

Robinson gazed at him admiringly for a moment, and then, looking
cautiously about him, to make sure that the procession was out of
hearing, said coaxingly:--

"What's the right answer? Tell us, like a good fellow."

"Two, of course," said Davy.

"Is that all?" exclaimed Robinson, in a tone of great astonishment.

"Certainly," said Davy, who began to feel very proud of his learning.
"Don't you know that when they divide a whole into four parts they call
them fourths, and when they divide it into two parts they call them
halves?"

"Why don't they call them tooths?" said Robinson, obstinately. "The fact
is, they ought to call 'em teeth. That's what puzzled the Goat. Next
time I'll say, 'How many teeth in a whole?'"

"Then the Cat will ask if it's a rat-hole," said Davy, laughing at the
idea.

"You positively convulse me, you're so very humorous," said Robinson,
without a vestige of a smile. "You're almost as droll as Friday was. He
used to call the Goat 'Pat,' because he said he was a little butter. I
told him that was altogether too funny for a lonely place like this, and
he went away and joined the minstrels."

Here Robinson suddenly turned pale, and, hastily reaching out for his
gun, sprang to his feet.

Davy looked out to sea, and saw that the clock, with the Goblin standing
in the stern, had come in sight again, and was heading directly for the
shore with tremendous speed. The poor Goblin, who had turned sea-green
in color, was frantically waving his hands to and fro, as if motioning
for the beach to get out of the way; and Davy watched his approach with
the greatest anxiety. Meanwhile the animals had mounted on four
sand-hills, and were solemnly looking on, while Robinson, who seemed to
have run out of tooth-powder, was hurriedly loading his gun with sand.
The next moment the clock struck the beach with great force, and,
turning completely over on the sand, buried the Goblin beneath it.
Robinson was just making a convulsive effort to fire off his gun, when
the clock began striking loudly, and he and the animals fled in all
directions in the wildest dismay.

CHAPTER XII.

A WHALE IN A WAISTCOAT.

Davy rushed up to the clock, and, pulling open the little door in the
front of it, looked inside. To his great disappointment the Goblin h