After a time the hotel chap came and said we were to have a double- bedded room, and he should charge half-extra for the kid, and if we wanted dinner we'd better look sharp, as it was just beginning. So we went up and washed--at least I had to wash the kid's sticky hands and face for him--and then came down to _table d'hote_. I was in a regular funk lest any of our fellows, or any one I knew, should see me. We got squeezed in between a lady in grand evening dress, and a professor chap with blue spectacles; and as they were both attending to their neighbours, I hoped we might scrape through without a scene. You should have seen that kid tuck in! I mildly suggested that he'd better not have any mock-turtle soup; but he began to get up steam for a bowl and a half, so I gave it up. He said it was ugly stuff, but for all that he polished off a plate of it, and then walked into salmon. After that he had a turn at roast pork and apple sauce, and after that a cabinet pudding and some Gorgonzola cheese. He was very anxious to have some beer, like the professor, or some wine, like the lady; but I put my foot down there, and let him have lemonade instead. You should have seen people stare at him! The professor glared as if he was a rum animal. "Your brother?" said he. "Not exactly," said I. "Uncommon appetite. Would you mind telling me in the morning what sort of night he had? I shall be curious to know." The lady glared too, chiefly because the kid had sprinkled her silk dress with melted butter, and pork gravy and lemonade. He caught her eye once, and said out loud to her-- "Our cat's called Flossy; what's your cat called?" The lady turned away; whereupon the kid began his cheek again. "That lady," said he to me and the company at large, "has got a nice dress and a nasty face. I like nice faces bestest--do you?" "Shut up, or I'll clout your ear," snarled I, in a regular perspiration of disgust. "What's clout?" inquired he. Then, feeling his ears, "My ears don't stick out like that man's over there, do they?" "Do you hear? shut up, you little fool!" "We've got a donkey at home, and his--" Here I could stand it no longer, and lugged him off, whether he liked it or no. He was just as bad in the reading-room. He wouldn't sit still unless I told him stories, and made a regular nuisance of himself to the other people. Then (I suppose it was his big feed) he began to get crusty, and blubbered when I talked sharply to him, and presently set up a regular good old howl. "Why don't you put the child to bed?" said a lady; "he's no business up at this hour." Nice, wasn't it? I had to sneak off with him upstairs, howling all the way. He wouldn't stop till I gave him a mild cuff on the head. That seemed to bring him round enough to demand the "The Three Bears" once more. Anything to keep him still; so at it I went again. Then I told him to go to bed; and he told me to undress him, as he couldn't do the buttons.