not swelling more
satisfactorily--and ending with a vicious cut at a wasp bent on a feast
of nectarine beneath the great, new, red-brick wall.

Wasp did not like it. Ignorant of any doctrine concerning _meum_ and
_tuum_, he looked upon all fruit as _pro bono publico_, as far as the
insect world was concerned. The nectarines might be choicely named
varieties, planted by Sir Hampton's order, after having been obtained at
considerable expense--the wall having been built for their use; but
fruit was fruit to the wasp, so long as it was ripe, and he resented
interference. Pugnacity was crammed to excess in his small, yellow
body, and prevented from bursting it by a series of strong black rings;
so it was not surprising that the insect showed fight, and span round
the new magistrate's head with a fierce buzz.

"Css! Get out! Sh!" ejaculated Sir Hampton; and he struck at the wasp
again and again. But the little insect was no respecter of persons. He
had been insulted, and, watching his opportunity, he dashed in, and
stung the knight in the tender red mark where his stiffly starched
cravat frayed his neck, gave a triumphant buzz, and went over the wall
like a yellow streak.

"Confound! Ugh!" ejaculated the knight; and then, seeing Sanders coming
slowly back, he played Spartan, and preserved outward composure, though
there was a volcano of wrath smouldering within.

He strutted off, with the gardener behind, fired a couple of shots at
gardeners two and three, who were sweeping the lawn, and then entered
into a general inspection of the garden.

"How--Er-rum!--how is it that bed is not in flower, Sanders?" "Done
blooming," said Sanders, gruffly.

"Done blooming, Sir Hampton!" exclaimed the knight, facing round.

"Done blooming, Sir Hampton," said the gardener, slowly; and he looked
as expressionless as a big sunflower.

"Take off that branch," said the knight, pointing to an overhanging
bough; and it was solemnly lopped off.

"Er-rum!" ejaculated the knight, when they had gone a little farther.
"How is it that patch of lawn is brown?"

"Grubs," said the gardener.

"Grubs, Sir Hampton," said the knight, fiercely.

"Grubs, Sir Hampton," said the corrected gardener.

"Ha!" said Sir Hampton, and they went a little farther.

"Those Wellingtonias are not growing, Sanders."

"Two foot this year," said the gardener.

"That's very slow."

"Fast," said the gardener.

"Fast, Sir Hampton," said the knight.