, two bulls had got
loose and had maimed several people for life, whom he had to pension as
long as they were unable to work,--and their inability to work appeared
to increase with the duration of the pension. In fact Mr. Regniati's
model farm promised to eventuate in a gigantic failure. At this crisis
Madame stepped in and saved the citadel.

She simply got rid, _sur-le-champ_, of the live-stock, man and beast.

Then she disposed of the house and outbuildings.

The Signor went down, and sat, like Marius, or rather like a second
Cincinnatus, when, on returning from the metropolis, he found that his
farm had gone utterly to the bad.

After this, Signor Regniati went hard to work on Juno. A year's toil
brought its reward. Madame his wife was pleased to sit as his model,
and, ultimately, to purchase for him a small game preserve, and a
shooting box in Bedfordshire, at an easy distance from town.

It was on his way to Budgeby Box that the Signor came to us at
Happy-Thought Hall, and brought Madame; or rather, that Madame came and
brought the Signor.

Milburd was now the Signor's constant companion. Madame trusted, she
said, Mr. Regniati to his nephew. Mr. Regniati, she adds, is a child. "I
expect no responsibility from him. I look to Richard for that. Richard
must take care of his uncle, and go out shooting with him, as I will
_not_ have," she says, emphatically "I will _not_ have Mr. Regniati
going out with a gun, _alone_."

If Mr. Regniati is present when these remarks are made, he merely
smiles, quite happily, stretches out his arms, and exclaims, in a tone
of the slightest remonstrance possible, "Oh, my dear! I can shoot! I am
quite safe."

"Yes," returns Madame, "and I mean you to keep so."

"I vas born for a sport-mans," Mr. Regniati observes to us.

I notice that he is fond of putting words into a sort of plural of his
own invention.

"You're lucky, Mr. Regniati," observes his wife, "to find _that_ out at
all events. For my part I can't make out why you were ever born at all."

Again the Signor smiles, and says in cheerful remonstrance, "Oh my
dear!" but he is too wise to continue a conversation which would only
involve an argument, and perhaps, the loss of his "lee-tel shoot-box at
Bod-ge-bee."

Dick, _i.e._ Milburd, benefits considerably by this arrangement. His
aunt pays all the expenses (trusting Mr. Regniati with no money), as
long as he and his uncle are together.

"Richard," she says, "is cle