"Oh, Jack, he has played him some dreadful tricks."
"Yes," returned the physician dryly, "and so has Jack"s father, by all accounts."
"Ahem!"
"And yet I really believe that he enjoys the recollection of the boy"s infamous practical jokes."
"I believe you are right," responded Harkaway.
A day or two later on the doctor was seated with Mr. Mole.
"Mr. Mole."
"Doctor."
"Your health must be looked to. You"ll have to travel."
"How, doctor?" said Mole.
"Young Harkaway is in foreign parts, and his prolonged absence causes his parents considerable uneasiness, and you must go and look after him."
Mole"s eyes twinkled.
"Do you mean it?"
"I do. When would you like to start?"
"To-day."
"Very good. The sooner the better," said the doctor.
Mr. Mole"s countenance fell suddenly.
An ugly thought crossed him.
What would Mrs. Mole say?
"There is one matter I would like to consult you on, doctor."
"What might that be?" demanded the doctor.
"My wife might have a word to say upon the subject."
"I will undertake to remove her scruples," said the doctor.
"You will?"
"Yes. She will never object when she knows how important your mission is."
"Doctor," exclaimed Mr. Mole, joyously; "you are a trump."
A delay naturally occurred, however.
Mr. Mole could not travel with his wooden stumps, his friends one and all agreed.
No.
He must have a pair of cork legs made.
The doctor who had been attending our old friend knew of a maker of artificial limbs who was a wonderful man, according to all accounts.
"Yes," said Mole, "cork legs well hosed will----"
At this moment a voice tuning up under the window cut him short,
"He gave his own leg to the undertaker, And sent for a skilful cork-leg maker.
Ritooral looral."
"That"s d.i.c.k Harvey. Infamous!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr. Mole.
"On a brace of broomsticks never I"ll walk, But I"ll have symmetrical limbs of cork.
Ritooral looral."
"Monstrous!" exclaimed Mr. Mole; "close the window, sir, if you please."
It was all very well to say "Close it," but this was easier said than done.
d.i.c.k Harvey had fixed it beyond the skill of that skilful mechanician to unfasten.
The aggravating minstrel continued without--
"Than timber this cork is better by half, Examine likewise my elegant calf.
Ritooral looral----"
"I will have that window closed," cried Mole.
He arose, forgetting in his haste that he was minus one leg, and down he rolled.
The artificial limb-maker lunged after him, and succeeded with infinite difficulty in getting him on to his feet again.
"Dear, dear!" said Mr. Mole. "No matter, I can manage it."
He picked up the nearest object to hand, and hurled it out of window.