aimed Miss Howard, rising from the table in disgust.

'My Uncle Jellyboy wouldn't let such a frost stop him, I know,' observed
the boy.

'Who's your Uncle Jellyboy?' asked Miss Glitters.

'He's a farmer, and keeps a few harriers at Scutley,' observed Bob
Spangles, _sotto voce_.

'And is that your extraordinary horse with all the legs?' asked Miss
Howard, putting her glass to her eye, and scrutinizing a lank,
woolly-coated weed, getting led about by a blue-aproned gardener. 'Is that
your extraordinary horse, with all the legs?' repeated she, following the
animal about with her glass.

'Hoots, it hasn't more legs than other people's,' growled George.

'It's got ten, at all events,' replied Miss Howard, to the astonishment of
the juveniles.

'Nor, it hasn't,' replied George.

'Yes, it has,' rejoined the lady.

'Nor, it hasn't,' repeated George.

'Come and see,' said the lady; adding, 'perhaps it's put out some since you
got off.'

George slouched up to where she stood at the window.

'Now,' said he, as the gardener turned the horse round, and he saw it had
but four, 'how many has it?'

'Ten!' replied Miss Howard.

'Hoots,' replied George, 'you think it's April Fool's Day, I dare say.'

'No, I don't,' replied Miss Howard; 'but I maintain your horse has ten
legs. See, now!' continued she, 'what do you call these coming here?'

'His two forelegs,' replied George.

'Well, two fours--twice four's eight, eh? and his two hind ones make ten.'

'Hoots,' growled George, amidst the mirth of his comrades, 'you're makin' a
fool o' one.'

'Well, but what must I do with all these little (hiccup) creatures?' asked
Sir Harry again, seeing the plot still thickening outside.

'Turn them out a bagman?' suggested Mr. Sponge, in an undertone; adding,
'Watchorn has a three-legged 'un, I know, in the hay-loft.'

'Oh, Watchorn wouldn't (hiccup) on such a day as this,' replied Sir Harry.
'New Year's Day, too--most likely away, seeing his young hounds at walk.'

'We might see, at all events,' observed Mr. Sponge.

'Well,' assented Sir Harry, ringing the bell. 'Peter,' said he, as the
servant answered the summons, 'I wish you would (hiccup) to Mr. Watchorn's,
and ask if he'll have the kindness to (hiccup) down here.' Sir Harry was
obliged to be polite, for Watchorn, too, was on the 'free' list as Miss
Glitters called it.

'Yes, Sir Harry,' replied Peter, leaving the room.

Presently Peter's white legs were seen wending