"They used to," said Adam. "I once had a whole aviary full of winged
elephants. They flew from flower to flower, and thrusting their
probabilities deep into--"

"Their what?" queried Johnson, with a frown.

"Probabilities--isn't that the word? Their trunks," said Adam.

"Probosces, I imagine you mean," suggested Johnson.

"Yes--that was it. Their probosces," said Adam. "They were great
honey-gatherers, those elephants--far better than the bees, because they
could make so much more of it in a given time."

Munchausen shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid I'm outclassed by these
antediluvians," he said.

"Gentlemen! gentlemen!" cried Sir Walter. "These interruptions are
inexcusable!"

"That's what I think," said the stranger, with some asperity. "I'm having
about as hard a time getting this story out as I would if it were a
serial. Of course, if you gentlemen do not wish to hear it, I can stop;
but it must be understood that when I do stop I stop finally, once and for
all, because the tale has not a sufficiency of dramatic climaxes to
warrant its prolongation over the usual magazine period of twelve months."

"Go on! go on!" cried some.

"Shut up!" cried others--addressing the interrupting members, of course.