as he alleged, but upon a land tortoise of extraordinary size.

The innuendo contained in this epistle has made the Professor, who, as
I have already hinted, is not by nature of a meek disposition, extremely
angry. Indeed, notwithstanding all that I could do, he left his London
house under an hour ago with a whip of hippopotamus hide such as the
Egyptians call a _koorbash_, purposing to avenge himself upon the person
of his defamer. In order to prevent a public scandal, however, I have
taken the liberty of telephoning to that gentleman, who, bold and
vicious as he may be in print, is physically small and, I should say,
of a timid character, to get out of the way at once. To judge from the
abrupt fashion in which our conversation came to an end, I imagine that
the hint has been taken. At any rate, I hope for the best, and, as
an extra precaution, have communicated with the lawyers of my justly
indignant friend.

The reader will now probably understand that I am writing this book, not
to bring myself or others before the public, or to make money of which I
have no present need, or for any purpose whatsoever, except to set down
the bare and actual truth. In fact, so many rumours are flying about
as to where we have been and what befell us that this has become
almost necessary. As soon as I laid down that cruel column of gibes and
insinuations to which I have alluded--yes, this very morning, before
breakfast, this conviction took hold of me so strongly that I cabled
to Oliver, Captain Oliver Orme, the hero of my history, if it has
any particular hero, who is at present engaged upon what must be an
extremely agreeable journey round the world--asking his consent. Ten
minutes since the answer arrived from Tokyo. Here it is:

"Do what you like and think necessary, but please alter all names, et