As I saw he was getting angry, I told him all about it,--told him
how we had hired a stranded canal-boat and had fitted it up as a
house, and how we lived so cosily in it, and had called it "Rudder
Grange," and how we had taken a boarder.

"Well!" said he, "this is certainly surprising. I'm coming out to
see you some day. It will be better than going to Barnum's."

I told him--it is the way of society--that we would be glad to see
him, and we parted. Waterford never did come to see us, and I
merely mention this incident to show how some of our friends talked
about Rudder Grange, when they first heard that we lived there.

After dinner that evening, when I went up on deck with Euphemia to
have my smoke, we saw the boarder sitting on the bulwarks near the
garden, with his legs dangling down outside.

"Look here!" said he.

I looked, but there was nothing unusual to see.

"What is it?" I asked.

He turned around and seeing Euphemia, said:

"Nothing."

It would be a very stupid person who could not take such a hint as
that, and so, after a walk around the garden, Euphemia took
occasion to go below to look at the kitchen fire.