Mr. Metal. 113 



Cockamaroo Hall, and as for Bloomsbury Fitzfoodle 

 Blenkinsop, he was a gone coon from the first moment he 

 set eyes on her. He also determined to make acquaint- 

 ance with the newcomer's charming daughter imme- 

 diately, if not sooner, in spite of mamma and everyone else. 

 How nice it would be, he thought, chasing butterflies and 

 hunting for stag-beetles, with her for a companion. 

 ( Bloomsbury was a great entomologist.) He wondered, too, 

 if she liked tame rabbits, and guinea-pigs, and bees. Yes, he 

 thought she looked as if she did. How delightful it 

 would be to get her over to luncheon some day, and take 

 her with him afterwards — all by herself of course — to feed 

 his numerous pets. Oh, sly, sly Bloomsbury ! 



Mr. Bleater, the curate, called the next afternoon, and 

 was asked to stay and dine, which invitation he accepted. 

 He did not, it is true, quite understand the horsey talk 

 and racing reminiscences told him after dinner by his 

 host, but he did understand that the claret he drank a 

 skinful of quite came up to its owner's description of it, 

 when he called it " first chop." A stiff brandy and soda 

 and a big cigar about did for the curate, whose utterance 

 was a trifle thick as he said, '^ Goori ! Mr. Metal ; goori, 

 sir ! Very pleased, indeed, to make your (hiccup) ac- 

 quairansh." The rector then called. Would it be asking 

 too much if Mr. Metal could give him a few flowers and 

 evergreens for the purpose of decorating the Church for 

 the forthcoming harvest festival ? '^ Not a bit ! Go to my 

 'ead gardener," replied Mr. Metal, ^' and ask him for what- 

 ever you want, and welcome." The Rector thought, as he 

 was about it, he might as well produce his subscription 

 list for the new organ. He did so accordingly, and Mr. 

 Metal, instead of, after a lot of haggling and cross-ques- 



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