o their good friend, whom
they called "Uncle"; and very interesting it was to see them
together.

But he did not allow any undue liberties either, as a little
incident showed.

He had been describing a particular kind of collapsible
tumbler, which you put in your pocket and carried with you
for use on a railway journey.

"There now," he continued, turning to the children, "I
forgot to bring it with me after all."

"Oh Goosie," broke in Isa; "you've been talking about that
tumbler for days, and now you have forgotten it."

He pulled himself up, and looked at her steadily with an air
of grave reproof.

Much abashed, she hastily substituted a very subdued "Uncle"
for the objectionable "Goosie," and the matter dropped.

The principal anecdote on this occasion was about a dog
which had been sent into the sea after sticks. He brought
them back very properly for some time, and then there
appeared to be a little difficulty, and he returned swimming
in a very curious manner. On closer inspection it appeared
that he had caught hold of his own tail by mistake, and was
bringing it to land in triumph.

This was told with the utmost gravity, and though we had
been requested beforehand not to mention "Lewis Carroll's"
books, the temptation was too strong. I could not help
saying to the child next me--

"That was like the Whiting, wasn't it?"

Our visitor, however, took up the remark, and seemed quite
willing to talk about it.

"When I wrote that," he said, "I believed that whiting
really did have their tails in their mouths, but I have
since been told that fishmongers put the tail through the
eye, not in the mouth at all."

He was not a very good carver, for Miss Bremer also describes a little
difficulty he had--this time with the pastry: "An amusing incident
occurred when he was at lunch with us. He was requested to serve some
pastry, and, using a knife, as it was evidently rather hard, the knife
penetrated the d'oyley beneath--and his consternation was extreme when
he saw the slice of linen and lace he served as an addition to the
tart!"

It was, I think, through her connection with the "Alice" play that Mr.
Dodgson first came to know Miss Isa Bowman. Her childish friendship
for him was one of the joys of his later years, and one of the last
letters he wrote was addressed to her. The