ers. A person of my position is
never useful. We have certain accomplishments, and that is more than
sufficient. I have no sympathy myself with industry of any kind, least
of all with such industries as you seem to recommend. Indeed, I have
always been of opinion that hard work is simply the refuge of people who
have nothing whatever to do."

"Well, well," said the Duck, who was of a very peaceable disposition,
and never quarrelled with any one, "everybody has different tastes.
I hope, at any rate, that you are going to take up your residence here."

"Oh! dear no," cried the Rocket. "I am merely a visitor, a distinguished
visitor. The fact is that I find this place rather tedious. There is
neither society here, nor solitude. In fact, it is essentially suburban.
I shall probably go back to Court, for I know that I am destined to make
a sensation in the world."

"I had thoughts of entering public life once myself," remarked the Duck;
"there are so many things that need reforming. Indeed, I took the chair
at a meeting some time ago, and we passed resolutions condemning
everything that we did not like. However, they did not seem to have much
effect. Now I go in for domesticity, and look after my family."

"I am made for public life," said the Rocket, "and so are all my
relations, even the humblest of them. Whenever we appear we excite great
attention. I have not actually appeared myself, but when I do so it will
be a magnificent sight. As for domesticity, it ages one rapidly, and
distracts one's mind from higher things."

"Ah! the higher things of life, how fine they are!" said the Duck; "and
that reminds me how hungry I feel:" and she swam away down the stream,
saying, "Quack, quack, quack."

"Come back! come back!" screamed the Rocket, "I have a great deal to say
to you;" but the Duck paid no attention to him. "I am glad that she has
gone," he said to himself, "she has a decidedly middle-class mind;" and
he sank a little deeper still into the mud, and began to think about the
loneliness of genius, when suddenly two little boys in white smocks came
running down the bank, with a kettle and some faggots.

"This must be the deputation," said the Rocket, and he tried to look
very dignified.

"Hallo!" cried one of the boys, "look at this old stick! I wonder how it
came here;" and he picked the Rocket out of the ditch.

"OLD Stick!" said the Rocket, "impossible! GOLD Stick, that is what he
said. Gold Stick is very comp