"Well, don't fret yourself into fiddle-strings, old fellow! "said little Mr. Bouncer, encouragingly; "that won't mend matters. I 'll see what can be done to pull you out of the mire. You trust to your faithful Bouncer to get you out of the pickle, if it can anyhow be managed."
"Perhaps I had better go to Blucher Boots, and see what can be done?" timidly suggested Mr. Verdant Green.
"Perhaps you had better do nothing of the sort," promptly rejoined Mr. Bouncer. "If you open your mouth, you are sure to put your foot into it. No, my tulip! you leave it to yours truly; and I 'll do my possibles, as the Parley-voos say, to act as your confidential agent and go-between in setting matters straight. But, I tell you plainly, Giglamps, if this sort of thing goes on, it can only end in one way."
"What way?" asked Verdant, anxiously.
"Why, this way! you 'll run a fearful mucker," replied Mr. Bouncer, seritentiously. "Come along, Huz and Buz, and I 'll shut you up in the little shop for coal, while I go and see Blucher Boots. Ta, ta! Giglamps! Keep up your pecker." And little Mr. Bouncer took himself, and his dogs, and his post-horn, out of the room, with no small noise from his canine pets, and
