middle-class mind"; and he sank a little deeper still into the mud,
and began to think about the loneliness of genius, when suddenly
two little boys in white smocks came running down the bank, with a
kettle and some faggots.

"This must be the deputation," said the Rocket, and he tried to
look very dignified.

"Hallo!" cried one of the boys, "look at this old stick! I wonder
how it came here"; and he picked the rocket out of the ditch.

"OLD Stick!" said the Rocket, "impossible! GOLD Stick, that is
what he said. Gold Stick is very complimentary. In fact, he
mistakes me for one of the Court dignitaries!"

"Let us put it into the fire!" said the other boy, "it will help to
boil the kettle."

So they piled the faggots together, and put the Rocket on top, and
lit the fire.

"This is magnificent," cried the Rocket, "they are going to let me
off in broad day-light, so that every one can see me."

"We will go to sleep now," they said, "and when we wake up the
kettle will be boiled"; and they lay down on the grass, and shut
their eyes.

The Rocket was very damp, so he took a long time to burn. At last,
however, the fire caught him.