which could not all be Mrs Weston's fish, and indeed, even at that
distance there was something familiar to Georgie about a very large
green hold-all which was dumped there. Perhaps Hermy and Ursy had
travelled in the van, because "it was such a lark," or for some other
tomboy reason, and he went down the platform to investigate. There were
bags of golf clubs, and a dog, and portmanteaux, and even as the
conviction dawned on him that he had seen some of these objects before,
the guard, to whom Georgie always gave half-a-crown when he travelled
by this train, presented him with a note scrawled in pencil. It ran--

"Dearest Georgie,

"It was such a lovely day that when we got to Paddington Ursy and I
decided to bicycle down instead, so for a lark we sent our things on,
and we may arrive tonight, but probably tomorrow. Take care of
Tiptree: and give him plenty of jam. He loves it.

"Yours,
"HERMY.

"P.S.--Tipsipoozie doesn't really bite: it's only his fun."

Georgie crumpled up this odious epistle, and became aware that
Tipsipoozie, a lean Irish terrier, was regarding him with peculiar
disfavour, and shewing all his teeth, probably in fun. In pursuance of
this humorous idea, he then darted towards Georgie, and would have been
extremely funny, if he had not been handicapped by the bag of golf-clubs
to which he was tethered. As it was, he pursued him down the platform,
towing the clubs after him, till he got entangled in them and fell down.