“Turn to the left!” cried the Vice-Warden, hastily stepping forwards to show the way---so hastily, that he ran against his unfortunate guest, who fell heavily on his face. “So sorry!” my Lady exclaimed, as she and her husband helped him to his feet again. “My son was in the act of saying 'sixty-three' as you fell!” The Baron said nothing: he was covered with dust, and seemed much hurt, both in body and mind. However, when they had got him into the house, and given him a good brushing, matters looked a little better. Dinner was served in due course, and every fresh dish seemed to increase the good-humour of the Baron: but all efforts, to get him to express his opinion as to Uggug's cleverness, were in vain, until that interesting youth had left the room, and was seen from the open window, prowling about the lawn with a little basket, which he was filling with frogs. “So fond of Natural History as he is, dear boy!” said the doting mother. “Now do tell us, Baron, what you think of him!” “To be perfectly candid,” said the cautious Baron, “I would like a little more evidence. I think you mentioned his skill in--” “Music?” said the Vice-Warden. “Why, he's simply a prodigy! You shall hear him play the piano.” And he walked to the window. “Ug--I mean my boy! Come in for a minute, and bring the music-master with you! To turn over the music for him,” he added as an explanation. Uggug, having filled his basket with frogs, had no objection to obey, and soon appeared in the room, followed by a fierce-looking little man, who asked the Vice-Warden “Vot music vill you haf?” “The Sonata that His Highness plays so charmingly,” said the Vice-Warden. “His Highness haf not--” the music-master began, but was sharply stopped by the Vice-warden. “Silence, Sir! Go and turn over the music for his Highness. My dear,” (to the Wardeness) “will you show him what to do? And meanwhile, Baron, I'll just show you a most interesting map we have--of Outland, and Fairyland, and that sort of thing.” By the time my Lady had returned, from explaining things to the music-master, the map had been hung up, and the Baron was already much bewildered by the Vice-Warden's habit of pointing to one place while he shouted out the name of another. {Image...The map of fairyland} My Lady joining in, pointing out other places, and shouting other names, only made matters worse; and at last the Baron, in despair, took to pointing out places for himself, and feebly asked “Is that great yellow splotch Fairyland?” “Yes, that's Fairyland,” said the Vice-warden: “and you might as well give him a hint,” he muttered to my Lady, “about going back to-morrow. He eats like a shark! It would hardly do for me to mention it.” His wife caught the idea, and at once began giving hints of the most subtle and delicate kind. “Just see what a short way it is back to Fairyland! Why, if you started to-morrow morning, you'd get there in very little more than a week!”