The next morning all was excitement at the palace. The news of our return had spread abroad, and in the morning copy of the Daily Whyer, which his found on the breakfast-table when we went down, a full and, I must say, surprisingly accurate account of the interview appeared, together with the information that his Majesty would attend Parliament in state in the afternoon, and that an address from the throne would be read, in which certain changes in the Government would be suggested. There was also a paragraph about A. Fish, Esquire’s, lecture upon the “Unreasonableness of ability,” which the editor advised everybody to try and hear.  
His Majesty was in quite a , and we spent several hours in preparing an elaborate written speech which he was to read out in the afternoon; and then, having settled this and other matters to our satisfaction, we took Kis-Smee out for a little walk just before .
 
One of the first persons we met was the Crocodile at the . He looked once or twice at his Majesty, as if in doubt, and then at Kis-Smee.
 
On seeing the latter his eyes sparkled, and he came up and at once.
 
“Hullo, Wallypug!” he began unceremoniously.
 
His Majesty bowed, a little distantly I thought.
 
“What a fine fat dog!” exclaimed the Crocodile, pointing to Kis-Smee. “Is he for sale?”
 
“Certainly not,” said the Wallypug.
 
The Crocodile sighed. “Just my luck,” he remarked, “I love dogs and I should so enjoy taking this one home to tea with me. Perhaps you will let him visit me sometimes. What’s his name?”
 
 
“Kis-Smee,” said his Majesty.
 
“Oh! really Wallypug, this is so sudden,” said the Crocodile, , “I’d no idea you were so affectionate. I’m so bashful, too. I couldn’t really think of kissing you in public.”
 
 
“No, no!” explained his Majesty hastily—“Kis-Smee is the dog’s name; you asked me what his name was, you know.”
 
“Oh!” said the Crocodile, looking greatly disappointed. “I misunderstood you. Very sorry, I’m sure. Well, what are you going to do now?”
 
His Majesty told him of the meeting in the afternoon, and the Crocodile promised to come.
 
“That is,” he added, “if I may bring my with me.”
 
“Who is that?” asked the Wallypug.
 
“Oh! a very feeble old joke I’ve got staying with me,” said the Crocodile. “I could bring him in the perambulator, you know—the one I used to wheel the weak cup of tea about in—he’s such a nice old man.”
 
“What is he, did you say?” asked his Majesty.
 
“An old joke,” repeated the Crocodile, “his name is Joe , and he eats nothing but , and even they have to be very ancient before he can digest them. Oh! he’s a character, I can tell you. Make you die of laughing the first time you meet him; but as he always says the same thing over and over again—for hours and hours, he is rather trying at times. However, I will bring him along, and you can judge for yourself.”
 
We left the Crocodile then and went back to luncheon—after which we set out for the House of Words.
 
We found that quite a lot of Creatures were waiting in the lobby for the doors to open.
 
There was the Doctor-in-Law, telling a funny story to the Pig, for which he afterwards made a charge of one pound nineteen and elevenpence, describing it as Professional Attendance—and wor............