"And then, of course, the lob-worm had the opportunity of opening out
in a very magnificent bit of brag, and did not fail to do so.

"Travellers can always boast with impunity to stationary folk, and
the lob-worm had no conscience about speaking the truth.

So on he chattered, giving the most splendid account of the garden in
which he lived. Gorgeous flowers, velvet lawns, polished gravel-
walks, along which he was wont to take his early morning stroll,
before the ruder creatures of the neighbourhood, such as dogs, cats,
&c. were up and about, were all his discourse; and he spoke of them
as if they were his own, and told of the nursing and tending of every
plant in the lovely spot, as if the gardeners did it all for his
convenience and pleasure.

"Of the little accidents to which he and his race have from time
immemorial been liable from awkward spades, or those very early
birds, by whom he ran a risk of being snapped up every time he
emerged out of the velvet lawns for the morning strolls, he said just
nothing at all.

"All was unmixed delight (according to his account) in the garden,
and having actually boasted himself into good humour with himself,
and therefore with everybody else, he concluded by expressing the
condescending wish, that the 'SOMETHING' in the field should get
itself removed to the garden, to enjoy the life of which he spoke.

"'Undeniably beautiful as you are here,' cried he, 'your beauty will
increase a thousand fold, under the gardener's fostering care.
Appreciated as you are now in your rustic life, the most prominent