"Charmed to meet you again," he said, hurrying forward to meet him, and raising his hat, with a polite bow. "Pray, introduce me to your friends." CHAPTER XIII. THE LITTLE PANJANDRUM'S BALLOON. "Delighted to make your acquaintance," said the Archaeopteryx, when the necessary introductions had been made. "I've often wanted to meet some human beings; come and have luncheon with me. I've a couple of old friends staying here who will be delighted to see you." So saying, he led the way to where two most extraordinary-looking creatures sat waiting at a table, which was set for seven people. "Both antediluvians," whispered their host, "the Palaeotherium and the Eteraedarium. Capital chaps, but crotchety." Fidge was a little alarmed at first, for they were really very ugly. They seemed quite amiable, however; and the Palaeotherium--his mouth full of banana--motioned them to seats at the table, and, turning to the Dodo, said, "Haven't I seen you before?" The Dodo smirked, and, smoothing his gloves, said, in a self-conscious voice, "Very possibly we _may_ have met before. I don't remember you, but mine is a face which one is not likely to forget. Where did we meet, do you think?" "I'm trying to remember," said the Palaeotherium, "it must have been several hundreds of years ago now, and my memory is getting so bad----" "I once stayed with the Ichthyosaurus," said the Dodo. "It may have been there." "Ah, that must have been it," said the Palaeotherium. "I met a curious lot of people there--very mixed lot of associates _he_ had, to be sure." "Ahem," said the Dodo, indignantly. "I hope you don't mean that I----" "My dear Sir," replied the other, "I'm quite sure you are highly respectable; your gloves alone are a guarantee for that." "Thanks," said the Dodo, looking quite happy again. "Do you know any riddles?" asked the Eteraedarium, suddenly, addressing Dick. "Let's see," said he, glad that the conversation had taken a turn which they could all understand. "I think I do know a few. Why is a robin like a waterbut?" "First of all," said the Archaeopteryx, anxiously, "what is a robin, and who is a waterbut?" "Oh, a robin," explained Marjorie, "is a dear little bird with a red breast that comes in the winter----" "Stop! stop!" said the Palaeotherium, "one thing at a time. What is a bird?" "Oh, I say! You _must_ know what a bird is," expostulated Dick. "I don't," said the Palaeotherium, stubbornly. "Why--why--the Dodo is a bird," explained Dick. "Yes, but nothing like a robin, Dick, dear," added Marjorie; "a robin is such a sweet, pretty little thing----" "Well, I never!" exclaimed the Dodo, "do you mean to say _I'm_ not a pretty little thing?" "Well, you're not _quite_ like a robin, are you?" said Marjorie, getting out of the difficulty very cleverly. "Not _quite_, perhaps," admitted the Dodo; "but I _am_ pretty," he added decidedly. "I don't see what all this has to do with my conundrum," said Dick.