The uncle in question is a foolish, proper-English fellow in a checkered black-and-yellow knicker suit and an explorer hat, and his misadventures are narrated in a deadpan manner that is meant to elicit knowing laughter but will probably leave readers as straight-faced as the narrator. The first mishap occurs when ""my Uncle"" climbs a tree as practice for mountain climbing, but falls out when scared onto a weak limb by a giant bird. A fishing expedition brings him up against an equally scary giant fish, and on the way home he finds himself in a fantasy forest confronted by strange semireptilian creatures. A dreamlike predicament when he tries to escape leads into the final groaner--he has been asleep and dreaming, and the fish on his line is a small one, ""just right. . . for my supper."" As a story, it's not even a keeper.