mutton. It was the commandant of artillery at Valetta who used to
amuse himself with cutting them, and who stuck upon one of the
bastions a notice, "No one allowed to cut capers here but me,"
which greatly edified the midshipmen in port, and the Maltese on
the Nix Mangiare stairs. But all that the mayor meant was that he
would go and have an afternoon's fun, like any schoolboy, and catch
lobsters with an iron hook.

So to the Mewstone he went, and for lobsters he looked. And when
he came to a certain crack in the rocks he was so excited that,
instead of putting in his hook, he put in his hand; and Mr. Lobster
was at home, and caught him by the finger, and held on.

"Yah!" said the mayor, and pulled as hard as he dared: but the
more he pulled, the more the lobster pinched, till he was forced to
be quiet.

Then he tried to get his hook in with his other hand; but the hole
was too narrow.

Then he pulled again; but he could not stand the pain.

Then he shouted and bawled for help: but there was no one nearer
him than the men-of-war inside the breakwater.

Then he began to turn a little pale; for the tide flowed, and still
the lobster held on.

Then he turned quite white; for the tide was up to his knees, and
still the lobster held on.