(Now, the Clangle-Wangle is a most dangerous and delusive beast, and by no
means commonly to be met with. They live in the water as well as on land,
using their long tail as a sail when in the former element. Their speed is
extreme; but their habits of life are domestic and superfluous, and their
general demeanor pensive and pellucid. On summer evenings, they may
sometimes be observed near the Lake Pipple-Popple, standing on their heads,
and humming their national melodies. They subsist entirely on vegetables,
excepting when they eat veal or mutton or pork or beef or fish or
saltpetre.)
The moment the Clangle-Wangle saw the seven young Cats approach, he ran
away; and as he ran straight on for four months, and the Cats, though they
continued to run, could never overtake him, they all gradually _died_ of
fatigue and exhaustion, and never afterwards recovered.
And this was the end of the seven young Cats.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XI.
THE HISTORY OF THE SEVEN YOUNG FISHES.
The seven young Fishes swam across the Lake Pipple-Popple, and into the
river, and into the ocean; where, most unhappily for them, they saw, on the
fifteenth day of their travels, a bright-blue Boss-Woss, and instantly swam
after him. But the Blue Boss-Woss plunged into a
perpendicular,
spicular,
orbicular,
quadrangular,
circular depth of soft mud;
where, in fact, his house was.
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