n pilfered verbatim
from his master. They seldom spoke their own thoughts in their own
way; they sent forth as their own whatever they could remember from
the talk of their masters and other gentlemen. There was one man who
seemed to be the servant of some noted scholar, and when he spoke the
others were dumfounded into quiet.

"The loriot," said he with a learned frown, "is a bird. If it is
looked upon by one who has the yellow jaundice, the bird straightway
dies, but the sick person becomes well instantly. 'Tis said that
lovage is used, but I would be luctuous to hear of anybody using this
lothir weed, for 'tis no pentepharmacon, but a mere simple and not
worth a caspatory."

This utterance fairly made their eyes bulge, and they sat in stunned
silence. But I must say that there was one man who did not fear.

"Sir," said Paddy respectfully, but still with his own dignity, "I
would be hearing more of this bird, and we all would be feeling
honoured for a short description."

"In color he is ningid," said the learned valet.

"Bedad!" cried Paddy. "That's strange!"

"'Tis a question full of tenebrosity," remarked the other leaning back
in his chair. "We poor scholars grow madarosis reflecting upon it.
However, I may tell you that the bird is simous; yblent in the
sunlight, but withal strenuous-eyed; its blood inclined to
intumescence. However, I must be breviloquent, for I require an
enneadecaterides to enumerate the true qualities of the loriot."

"By gor!" said Paddy, "I'll know that bird if I see him ten years from
now. Thank you kindly, sir. But we would be late for breakfast if you
took the required time; and that's true for me."

Afterward I reflected that I had attended the meetings of two
scholarly bodies in this one evening, but for the life of me I
couldn't decide which knew the least.

CHAPTER XX

By the following Sunday I judged that the Earl of Westport and his
family had returned to London, and so I walked abroad in the hopes of
catching a glimpse of some of them among the brilliant gentry who on
this day thronged the public gardens. I had both Jem Bottles and Paddy
accompany me, for I feared that they would get into mischief if I left
them to themselves. The innkeeper had told me that Kensington Gardens
was the place where the grand people mostly chose to walk and flirt
and show their clothes on a clear Sunday. It was a long way to these
Gardens, but we footed out bravely, although we st