THE TALE OF LAL

_A FANTASY_

BY

RAYMOND PATON

AUTHOR OF "THE DRUMMER OF THE DAWN"

 BRENTANO'S CHAPMAN & HALL LTD. NEW YORK LONDON

1914

AN EXPLANATION AND AN APOLOGY

Upon behalf of Ridgwell and Christine the author has been urged toexplain that three things--facts, common-sense, and probability--haveof necessity been throughout entirely omitted in relating this story. The children, however, have comforted the author by declaring thatthese particular things are not required at all in any book of thepresent day, but are merely an old-fashioned survival of the past, which is gradually dying out. 

One of the sole remaining examples we possess of fact, common-sense, and probability being the celebration of the 5th of November, which hassomehow become a day of national thanksgiving, and is without doubt oneof the most important dates in the calendar, and very dear to thehearts of the English people. 

A PREFACE

The aspect of Trafalgar Square, like everything else in the world, depends largely upon how it is viewed, and through whose eyes it isseen. 

A Japanese artist, for instance, visiting London, immediately selectedTrafalgar Square seen by night-time as a subject for a picture. Hethoughtfully omitted any suggestion of either omnibuses, taxi-cabs, orthe populace. 

He likewise decided that all the statues were most unpicturesque, andthe varied and flashing electric advertisements to be seen hung up onhigh around the Square were not only hideous but impossible. 

Consequently this imaginative being flung upon his canvas a mysteriousblue space, void of anything save the brilliantly coloured lanterns ofhis own land, swung upon bamboo poles, trembling in the darkness atpicturesquely convenient distances. The effect was quite beautiful, but of course it could not in any way be considered as a reasonablelikeness of this particular Square. 

A French artist also selecting this portion of London for a picture, determined at once that it would be more becoming, not to saydiplomatic, to paint only one end of the low stone wall surrounding theSquare; yet entertaining doubts afterwards that it might not perhaps berecognised, he added the central stone cupola of the National Gallery, appearing over all like a hastily bestowed blessing, but covered theremaining space upon his canvas with imaginary stalls of glowingflowers, and even more imaginary flower-sellers. His picture wasgreatly admired, and very much resembled the Market Square in Havreupon a Monday morning. 

A Spanish artist chancing to pass the same way, likewise hastilycompleted a picture of Trafalgar Square as he wished to see it, addingby way of a decorative effect a lattice-work of trellised vines likeunto his beloved vineyards of Andalusia. Dwarf oranges grew inprofusion and hung their coloured golden globes over the squat stonewalls. A brilliant Southern sun beat upon both, baking the wallsred-hot and ripening the oranges at one and the same time. Thispicture the artist named Trafalgar Square when the Sun Shines. 

A Cubist painter, not to be outdone with regard to his point of view ofsuch a subject, covered an immense canvas with wonderful heavingsquares of ochre and green, viewed from a background suggesting endlessmud. This suggestion, however, may have been in the nature of a smalltribute to the usual condition of the London streets. This productionwhich the Cubist artist was optimistic enough to name simply TrafalgarSquare, was instantly bought by a famous geologist, who to this dayindulges in the beautiful belief that he possesses the only indicationof what this particular portion of the world was like before ever theearth was made. 

Last of all arrived a Futurist painter, who painted _everything_ inTrafalgar Square, and nothing that did _not_ appear in it. Thepainter, however, selected a really wonderful aspect of the Square, seen from a most strange angle, a sort of bird's-eye view of it, whichcould only have been obtained from a balloon. So remarkable was theperspective that the entire Square, as seen in the picture, appeared asif it were being gradually drawn sideways up to Heaven. The greatNelson column and all the four lions could be viewed simultaneously, and the artist had painted _all the four lions alike_. 

Now a Writer whose chambers overlooked Trafalgar Square, and who wasacquainted with its every aspect, by night as well as day, knew fullwell that the Futurist artist was wrong when he painted all the fourlions _alike_. The Writer knew that one Lion was totally differentfrom all the others; so the Writer smiled and kept his own counsel. 

I will wait, said the Writer, until somebody else has made the samediscovery that I have made. I will remain completely silent concerningone square patch of fairyland placed within the very hub and centre ofthe Universe, within the busiest part of a great city. When some othertraveller finds the key to the mystic place, we shall both discover itis possible to talk about something which nobody else understands, andbe enabled to compare notes. 

CONTENTS

CHAP. 

 AN EXPLANATION AND AN APOLOGY A PREFACE

BOOK I

WHAT RIDGWELL AND CHRISTINE DECLARED

 I THE PLEASANT-FACED LION II BY ORDER OF THE LION III THE GOLDEN PAVILION IV PREPARING FOR A VISITOR

BOOK II

WHAT THE WRITER AND THE LORD MAYOR DECLARED

 V THE WRITER APPEARS ON THE SCENE VI TWO DICK WHITTINGTONS VII THE LION MAKES HIS SIGN VIII AN UPSETTING ARTICLE IN THE MORNING PAPER IX THE WRITER PLANS WICKED PLANS

BOOK III

WHAT THE PUBLIC HEARD ABOUT

 X THE LION GOES TO COURT XI THE END OF THE MATTER

BOOK I

WHAT RIDGWELL AND CHRISTINE DECLARED

CHAPTER I

THE PLEASANT-FACED LION

Ridgwell always told Christine afterwards that he thought the Lionfirst spoke to him in Trafalgar Square, the day when he was lost in thefog. 

Ridgwell never knew how he became separated from the rest, but like allother unpleasant experiences it was one step, so to speak, and there hewas, wandering about lost. The fog appeared to have swallowed up thefriends he had been walking with a moment before; he could only hearvoices as if people were talking through a gramophone, and see loomingblack shadows which did not seem to be accompanied by any bodies; thenwhack--he walked right into something big which did not move. At thispoint Ridgwell was seriously thinking about commencing to cry. 

"Stop that, " said a gruff voice. 

"What?" faltered Ridgwell. 

"Going to cry. "

"I am not sure, " said Ridgwell, "that I was. "

"I am, " said the gruff voice. "I saw the corners of your mouth godown. Now can you climb up? No, of course you can't, you are toosmall. Here, catch hold of my paw! There you are!" grunted the Lion, when Ridgwell was seated safely. "You just fit nicely; all thechildren fit in here. Knock those rolled-up policemen's capes off, they annoy me every day when they put them there. They tickle me, andI can't scratch about with my paws either. "

Ridgwell was now lost in amazement, and regarded the Lion inopen-mouthed astonishment. 

The Lion purred contentedly. It was a nice homely sounding, domesticpurr, and many times deeper and more impressive than that of a cat. "What's your name?" demanded the Lion, whilst Ridgwell was stillgasping. 

"Ridgwell. "

"Very appropriate too, " said the Lion. "Here you are sitting in safetyon the Ridge with me, and you are Well, aren't you?"

"Yes, thank you. "

"There you are then, " said the Lion. "_Ridge-Well_, what more do youwant? Now I suppose you wish to know who I am? Well, I don't mindtelling you. I am the Pleasant-Faced Lion. I am the only real Lion ofthe four, consequently I have a more intelligent expression than theothers. The other three are only just common lions, and are alwaysasleep. Now _I_ come to life once in every generation and have a talkto the children, or to any one grown up who is imaginative enough tounderstand me. I like children, they are a hobby of mine. I am not inmy usual spirits to-day, " continued the Lion, "I have caught cold. "

"Have you?" said Ridgwell. "I am very sorry. "

"Yes, they washed me for Trafalgar Day in some beastly solution whichwas most unsuitable to me. I cannot shake off the cold. Hang on!"shouted the Lion suddenly, "I am going to sneeze, and I may shake youoff the pedestal. " Whereupon the Lion grabbed Ridgwell gently with hispaw to steady him, and after sneezing heavily, proceeded. "Afterwashing me for Trafalgar Day, which was most unnecessary, they hung aridiculous wreath round my neck with a large N in leaves upon it. Toadd to the injury, an absurd person stood staring at me and explainedto her children that the N stood for Napoleon. Bah!!!" growled theLion. "Bah!!! Ignorance!"

"What did it stand for?" asked Ridgwell. 

"Nile, " grunted the Lion. "Short for Battle of the Nile. "

"But I am so astonished. I did not know that you could talk, MisterLion. "

"Oh, for Heaven's sake don't call me Mister Lion, call me Lal. "

"Why Lal?" inquired Ridgwell. 

"Short for Lionel, " whispered the Lion. "Lionel is my proper name. "

"Oh, I see, but, Mister----"

"There you go again, " said the Lion. "Call me Lal and be friendly. "

"Indeed I am very friendly, Mister--I mean Lal; but there are so manythings I don't understand. "

"Common complaint of little boys, " grumbled the Lion, "and you aregoing to see a lot more things in a minute that you will find mostamazing. For instance, would you like to see a tournament?"

"Rather, Lal, I've always longed to see a tournament, but they neverhave such things now, do they? Aren't they all ended in England?"

"On the contrary, " declared the Lion, "one is about to begin. "

"Where?"

"Here in front of your eyes, and if you like you shall stay and see it. St. George outside Westminster has challenged the Griffin at Temple Barto fight. All the really important Statue folk will be present. KingRichard I from outside the Houses of Parliament will ride up to seefair play. Charles I. Will come over from Whitehall across the road;Oliver Cromwell will most likely put in an appearance, if he can onlymake up his mind to leave his mound outside the Commons in those bigboots of his. "

"But, Lal, " questioned Ridgwell, "surely Charles I. And Cromwell won'tcome to the Tournament together? Will they speak and be friendly?"

"No, no, " confessed the Lion, "we still have great trouble with thosetwo, they never speak. You see Cromwell is jealous of Charles, becauseCharles is mounted upon a nice horse, and rides past Cromwell and nevernotices him at all. Now Cromwell has to go about on foot, squeakingand squelching in those big boots, so that he never gets up to Charles, which annoys Cromwell very much. "

"Why?"

"Well, you see, Cromwell wants to shout out 'Ha!!!' at Charles, and henever gets a chance. Cromwell gets left out very much in the cold, "continued the Lion, "Richard I. Never notices him either. "

"Why is that?" asked Ridgwell. 

"It's like this, " said the Lion, "and it's only reasonable when youcome to think of it. Richard I. Spent nearly the whole of his timefighting to preserve a shrine, whilst Cromwell spent most of his timedestroying them. Of course that annoys Richard, so Richard simplylooks through Cromwell whenever they meet. Nothing would induce him tonotice Cromwell. "

"I should think that must annoy Cromwell, " debated Ridgwell. 

"It does, " agreed the Lion, "but Cromwell always shouts out Ho! atRichard; he thinks Ho! is more appropriate to Richard's period. Richard, however, with perfect self-possession which is beyond allpraise, never appears to hear him at all. Cromwell will always keepturning his head round to stare most rudely at Richard and Charles asthey gallop past, hoping that Richard will hear him shout Ho! andCharles will hear him shout Ha!, and that irritating habit of his, together with Charles's treatment of the matter, was probably theorigin of the terms, 'Roundhead' and 'Cavalier. '"

"Really!" said Ridgwell. 

The Lion coughed slightly. "Not really, " said the Lion, "only perhaps. "

"But, Lal, if the statues of London move about and are coming here fora tournament as you say, won't people miss them?"

"Good gracious goodness, no, " exclaimed the Lion. "Why! the people ofLondon wouldn't miss them in a year, let alone a few hours! Thenperhaps some person might notice something wasn't in its usual placeand would write to the papers asking what it meant, and the LondonCounty Council would hold an inquiry. "

"But, Lal, will General Gordon, George III. And Nelson take part in theTournament?"

"Bless me, child, how you mix up your history, " observed the Lion, "ofcourse not. They are only moderns, the others are ancients. Two Kingswaiting to see fair play between a Griffin and a Saint who are about tohave a fight, belong to quite another time. George III. And GeneralGordon are moved out of the way before the combat starts; and as forNelson, he was frozen long ago up there; it is a ridiculous attitudefor so great a man, and a worse altitude, but there he is, and youcannot alter it; however he is frozen and mercifully doesn't feelanything or see anything that is going on. "

"But if they are going to fight and charge one another, won't thefountains be in the way?" inquired Ridgwell anxiously, as he looked upinto the Lion's good-humoured face. 

"If you look again hard, " grinned the Lion, "you will find that thefountains and the stone lakes around them have disappeared. "

Ridgwell immediately looked in the direction the Lion indicated, andwas amazed to find only a big, wide, open space of stone, one of thelargest spaces in London. 

"But how did they----" commenced Ridgwell. 

"Hush!" said the Lion, "you really mustn't chatter any more. Here theycome, and I have to be Judge of the Tournament, also the Referee; andto be a Referee, " sighed the Lion, "is always a thankless task. "

At this moment, amidst a clatter that was indescribable, the Griffin, looking a most ungainly object, came gallumping into the open space. 

The Griffin appeared to be all wings, and scales, and claws, yet thissomewhat grisly appearance was entirely misleading, for he possessed anamiable, although foolish disposition, whilst his expression owed muchof its peculiarity to a habit he had acquired of breaking into broadsmiles of astonished self-appreciation. The Griffin was very vain, andthe one thing he craved for was notoriety. 

"Good evening, Lionel; where's George?" demanded the Griffin. "I don'tsee him. "

"You'll see quite enough of him before he's finished with you, "retorted the Pleasant-Faced Lion, loftily. "However, here he comes. "

St. George at this moment entered the wide stone space immediately infront of the Lion, to whom he made a profound salute. 

St. George looked very handsome in his scaly armour, and his shortbright sword glistened blue in the half light. Ridgwell had littletime to notice other details, for two horsemen came galloping in. 

Both were in armour and both were mounted upon beautiful horses. 

"Who are they?" asked Ridgwell. 

"Don't you see?" whispered the Lion. "King Richard I. And King CharlesI. Ah, " sighed the Lion, "what a noble figure Richard is! He is myspecial favourite; you see, " explained the Lion, "he is named after me. "

"Is he?"

"Of course. Is he not called Richard Coeur-de-Lion? I am de-Lion, "announced the Lion proudly. "He carried a picture of me on his shieldonce. You may notice, " proceeded the Lion, "that King Charlesunfortunately rides slightly upon one side. It is not his fault, butowing to the fact that he has no girth to his saddle. "

The horsemen wheeled one to either end of the arena before bringingtheir horses to a standstill. 

The two opponents, St. George and the Griffin, stood facing each otherin the centre, waiting for the combat to commence. 

"Before we start, " announced the Lion, "I am the Judge. There is, ofcourse, to be no bloodshed; indeed, " he added, in his wisest and mostjudicial manner, "bloodshed is impossible. The Griffin is almostover-protected (if I can use such a term) with scales, St. George isfully covered with armour. The Griffin possesses his remarkable claws, St. George a flat sword, so both are well matched. Therefore thecontest resolves itself into a trial of skill and strength. Both shallbe weighed in the scales. "

"He! he! he!" sniggered the Griffin, "if my scales cannot crush thescales of George's blatant armour may I live to bite my own nails. Why, I will squash him as flat as an empty meat tin. "

"Swank, " murmured St. George, nonchalantly. 

"The reason of the contest, " continued the Lion in a loud voice, as ifhe were reading from some document which he had committed to memory, "is owing to a ridiculous assertion made by the Griffin. The Griffinclaims to be the older established of the two. St. George laughs atthis claim derisively. The Griffin sorely provoked to it, unfortunately fell back upon dates, and his memory being very weak hehoped to conceal his shakiness about dates, with phrases. He thereforedeclared that Temple Bar where he now stands, once possessed two gateswhich have since been removed. Nevertheless the Griffin contends thathe is still there and Temple Bar is still there; in this he isundoubtedly right; yet, not content with this, he further asserts thatthis is the whole cause and origin of the phrase, 'Two to one, Barone. ' St. George here present, who knows something about horses, immediately called him a--well, it is not a nice word, " broke off theLion in parenthesis, "anyway St. George intimated that the truth wasnot in the Griffin. Hence a trial by combat. Are you ready?" roaredthe Lion; "then commence. "

From his quite comfortable seat between the Lion's paws, Ridgwell nowwatched the strangest combat he would ever be likely to witness. 

The Griffin advanced towards St. George with about as much grace as adancing camel would possess. His excessive angularity was accentuatedby his extraordinary clumsiness. St. George did not appear at alldisconcerted by the flapping of the Griffin's wings, but managed toavoid his clumsy clutches with great skill. Had St. George not slippedupon a piece of orange-peel, inadvertently left upon the floor of thearena, it is doubtful if the Griffin would ever have touched him. AsSt. George slipped, the Griffin hugged him tightly. Ridgwell held hisbreath, for it almost seemed as if St. George's armour must indeedcrumple up. 

"Meat tins, " shrieked the Griffin. 

"Break away, " commanded the Lion. 

"Here, I say, " snorted the Griffin, "I'd only just got him. "

"Break away, " ordered the Lion, "no hugging. "

The Griffin retired to his corner pouting. 

When the second bout started, Ridgwell noticed that there was somethinglike a smile upon St. George's face, and he soon understood the reasonof it. St. George had found out his adversary's weak spot. 

The Griffin advancing with a rush upon his hind legs, with his frontclaws doubled up reaching high over St. George to pull him down, wasbrought to a sudden standstill. 

There was a rapid sound of "Whack! whack! whack! whack!" four times. 

St. George had hit the Griffin with the flat of his sword upon the mosttender part of the Griffin's claws. The Griffin's mouth trembled. 

"Whack! whack! whack! whack!" came four more swashing blows, whilst theGriffin hesitated. Then the Griffin broke down completely, and weptaloud bitterly. 

"He's broken my knuckles, " sobbed the Griffin. 

"Do you give in?" asked the Lion. 

"Oh yes, " sobbed the Griffin. "Oh! my poor paws. "

"Shall he chase you round the arena?" demanded the Lion. 

"No, " whimpered the Griffin; "I'll go home quietly. "

Thereupon King Richard raised his sword and saluted to indicate thatthe fight was over, and followed by King Charles, who still swervedslightly to one side in his saddle, the two Kings rode out of theSquare. 

"Shake hands?" asked St. George of the Griffin, before he departed. 

The Griffin shook his head dolefully instead, whilst great tearscoursed down his cheeks. 

"Oh no, " sniffed the Griffin, "I don't think I shall ever shake handsagain. "

When everybody had gone, the Griffin slowly hobbled to his feet, andmoving towards home, half sobbed and half sang in a way that wasintensely comic--

 "Oh! Temple Bar, Oh! Temple Bar, With broken knuckles you seem so far. And all my claws are broken too; Oh! Temple Bar, what shall I do? To _hit_ me with a sword held flat, 'Twas grim of George to think of that. "

"Now you have seen the tournament, " observed the Lion to Ridgwell, "Isuppose you will have to get home somehow. "

"Yes, please, Lal. "

"And of course, " said the Pleasant-Faced Lion, "you will want to comeagain. "

"Rather, " laughed Ridgwell. 

"Well, to-morrow night there is a very different sort of entertainment. I and the Statue folk are going to give an evening party, the grandestyou have ever seen, or will ever be likely to see. "

"Oh, Lal, can I come and bring Christine?"

"Who is Christine?" inquired the Lion, cautiously; "you know we cannotadmit everybody. "

"Christine is my little sister. At least, " added Ridgwell, "Christineis older than I am, but she is little all the same. "

"I see. "

"And she would so enjoy it, Lal, " pleaded Ridgwell. 

"Very well, " said the Lion, "both come just this once. Now for home. Come, " commanded the Lion, "jump up. I learned that common expressionfrom the people who every moment of the day mount upon the horrid Buzz, Buzz, things. "

"Don't you like the Motor Omnibuses then?"

"The Buzz Buzzes you mean, child. No, I dislike them intensely, theymake such a noise both day and night that I cannot hear myself purreven. Jump up. Where do you want to go to?"

"To Balham, please, Lal. "

"Ah, that's the man with the Ass, isn't it?" demanded the Lion. 

For a moment Ridgwell looked quite shocked. "Oh no, Lal, you arethinking of Balaam. "

"Spelt the same way, " snapped the Lion, who did not like beingcorrected upon historical matters. 

"No, Lal, there is an H in Balham and people never drop it. "

"Glad to hear it, " grunted the Lion. "I only wish the people whocollect the pennies from the passengers upon the Buzz Buzz things wouldsay the same. Day by day, " added the Lion in an aggrieved tone, "Ihear them shout out the expressions--'Olloway, 'Igate, 'Arrow. TheBoard Schools, " continued the Lion in his wisest tones, "areresponsible for a most imperfect system of education. "

"But, Lal, " pleaded Ridgwell, "you will take me to Balham, won't you?I do not know how I should get home if you didn't take me there. "

"Yes, " said the Lion, "of course, I shall take you home, but youmustn't come to see me too often, you know, it's outside the four-mileradius. However, " concluded the Lion, "I shall follow the tram lines. Jump up, " once more commanded the Lion, "and hang on, because you knowI go at a good pace when once started. "

Whereupon Ridgwell clambered upon the Pleasant-Faced Lion's back, andconvulsively hugging him half round his great neck, buried his head inthe Lion's mane and shut his eyes, whilst the Lion took a bold jumpfrom off his pedestal, and started in a brisk trot for Balham. 

When they had arrived at their destination outside Ridgwell's home, theLion stood in the road and wagged his tail contentedly. 

"Thank you for bringing me home, Lal, " said Ridgwell as he clamberedoff the Lion's back. 

"Good-night, " whispered the Lion hoarsely, for after his long run hewas almost out of breath. "Mind you close the hall door safely afteryou. "

The Pleasant-Faced Lion, who appeared to be pleased at having broughthis little charge home, stood in the road and purred quite loudly forsome time. 

But none of the neighbours, who heard the deep sound echoing throughthe quiet road, thought of looking out of the window. They merelybelieved the sound proceeded from some powerful motor car which hadstopped in the vicinity. 

Then the Pleasant-Faced Lion jogged home to his pedestal in TrafalgarSquare, well pleased with his night's work. 

CHAPTER II

BY ORDER OF THE LION

"Hullo, Lal!" said Ridgwell, as he looked up at the Lion the followingevening. 

"Hullo!" rejoined the Lion huskily. "Who is that you have brought withyou?"

"This is Christine, " said Ridgwell. 

"How do you do?" said the Pleasant-Faced Lion, and he seemed to lookeven more pleasant than usual. The Lion stretched himself, descendedfrom his pedestal, and held out his paw to shake hands with Christine:Christine responded to these greetings shyly. 

Ridgwell really thought the Lion was one of the most amiable creatureshe had ever met. 

"If you do not mind, " the Lion observed to Christine, "you might walkupon the other side of Ridgwell and not next to me. "

"Oh, Lal, why?" asked Christine. 

"Who asked Christine to call me Lal?" inquired the Lion, as he liftedhis head up with an intensely comical air of self-importance. 

"I did, " said Ridgwell; "you told me always to call you Lal. "

"Quite right, " replied the Lion. "But do you always do exactly alike, you two?"

"Yes, always, " said Ridgwell. 

"Humph!" grunted the Lion. "Suppose there is only one apple and youboth want it, what happens?"

"We exactly divide it, " said Ridgwell. 

"Mathematically correct, " said the Lion. "Good. "

"But please why can't I walk next to you, _Mister_ Lion?"

"Ha!" shrieked the Lion, "there she goes, Mister Lion. You taught herthat too, I suppose. "

"Hush, Lal, " said Ridgwell, "don't get excited. Christine will soonget out of the habit and call you Lal, directly she knows how pleasantyou are. "

"You haven't answered my question, Lal, " objected Christine. 

"Well, little Christine, it is like this, " and the Lion pondered deeplyfor awhile. "If you walked _next_ to me and rested your hand upon mymane as you are doing now, anybody who saw us might take us for Una andthe Lion, otherwise Beauty and the Beast, and oh! my dear child, "implored the Lion, "you surely could not wish me ever to be called a_beast_. "

"Of course not, " said Christine; "we wouldn't hurt your feelings forworlds. So, Ridgie, you walk next to Lal, and I will walk the otherside of you. "

"A most reasonable child, " muttered the Lion, "really quite reasonable. "

"Did you bring the sulphur tablets?" asked the Lion mysteriously. 

"Yes, here they are. Christine has them wrapped up in a packet, "explained Ridgwell; "but, Lal, what can you want with sulphur tablets?You promised me we should both be asked to the party, but sulphurtablets do seem such an odd thing to want as a start. I have thoughtover it, and Christine has thought over it, and we cannot really thinkwhat they can be for. "

The Lion chuckled his most pleasant chuckle. 

"Give it up?"

"Yes, " nodded Ridgwell. 

"So would any one else, " grinned the Lion, "except me. Have you everthought how the thick yellow London fogs come?" inquired the Lioninsinuatingly. "Do you know what causes them?"

"No, " said Ridgwell. "I don't think anybody knows that. "

"I do, " replied the Lion. 

"What causes them, then?" asked Ridgwell. 

"The yellow fogs are caused solely by the habit the other three lionshave of sucking sulphur tablets whilst they are asleep, " declared theLion. "They are always sleeping, and directly two sulphur tablets areplaced in the corner of each one's mouth they go on sleeping andbreathing, sleeping and breathing. The result is a thick yellow fog. "

"I never knew that was the cause of London fogs, " mused Ridgwell. 

"One of them, " sighed the Lion; "and who can wonder at it? Just lookat the size of their mouths. "

"But your mouth is as large as theirs, is it not?" debated Christine. 

"Yes, " said the Lion, "but there is a particular reason for my mouthbeing large. "

"Why?" asked the children. 

"On account of all the wisdom I utter, " replied the Lion loftily. 

"Anyway, " said Ridgwell, "it does seem a horrid preparation for a partyto start with a fog. Surely nobody would see what was going on. "

"Hush, hush, my children, " remonstrated the Pleasant-Faced Lion. "Justgather round and listen, and do not interrupt. You will be amazed atall the things you are about to see and hear, for you are going to bepresent to-night for a few minutes at the most wonderful party evergiven in the whole world. "

"That will be lovely, " said Ridgwell and Christine. "And oh! Lal, really we have looked forward to it so much. "

The Lion patted each of the children in turn affectionately upon thehead with its paw, and they remembered afterwards that his paw was assoft as velvet, and really wasn't heavy at all. 

"Chatter, chatter, chatter, " said the Lion, "just like the magpies andthe sparrows, and the fashionable Society people for that matter, butyou must not interrupt. I am just like one of those guides that do allthe talking, and if I am interrupted I lose my place, get all mythoughts out of order, and all the ceremony will be wrong. Then KingRichard and King Charles will both be down upon me, and say the partywas rotten, and that I was to blame; and as for Boadicea, she has anasty temper, and will probably hit me over the head with her reins. "

"Oh, Lal, do you mean to say that King Richard and King Charles andBoadicea are coming to the party?"

"Yes, all of them, " grunted the Lion. "Now be quiet, and just listen. The sulphur tablets which seem to cause you so much mystification aresimply to cause a fog upon the _outside_ of Trafalgar Square, and toshut out the sight of the most wonderful party in the world from thegaze of all the other people who have not been invited to it. Imaginethe millions of people who would flock to see such a sight, if it werenot screened off. Drivers of the Buzz Buzz things they callmotor-buses and taxis, loafers, tramps, idlers, City men, work-girls, curious women--and, by the way, remember that women are alwayscurious--would flock in millions, attracted by the lovely lights, whichwill be brighter than anything you have ever seen, by the jewels, whichwill be more dazzling than anything you have ever dreamed of, to saynothing about the gorgeous costumes that will rival anything displayedupon the Field of the Cloth of Gold, outdo the splendours of any court, and put the pageant of the grandest pantomime ever witnessed to shame. Follow me, " commanded the Lion, "and you will see what you will seeonly once in your lives, and it all begins with the sulphur tablets. "

Ridgwell and Christine followed, and were dumb with amazement. TheLion gently took the packet of sulphur tablets from Christine andthanked her for providing them. Gingerly he approached each of theother three sleeping lions in turn and insinuatingly placed two in themouth of each lion; one tablet each side between each lion's big frontteeth and its tongue. 

"It's a dreadful habit, " said the Pleasant-Faced Lion, "to suck sulphurtablets in your sleep, but I suppose it's soothing. Now watch, "observed Lal maliciously. "Sleeping and breathing, sleeping andbreathing, the sulphur tablets will soon commence to work. "

Slowly as they watched, thick jets of yellow vapour commenced to riseupward and all around. 

"Come, " whispered Lal, "the thick fog stops like a wall at the back oftheir pedestals and all round Trafalgar Square. As I told you, "chuckled the Lion, "the fog is only upon the _outside_ of where theparty will take place. "

He now quickly drew the children out of the fog inside the immensecharmed circle of Trafalgar Square, where the atmosphere was quiteclear, but as yet quite dark. 

The Lion lifted up his head and gave a most piercing and peculiarwhistle; once, twice, three times and yet a fourth he repeated thissignal. 

The signal was answered in a curious manner. The whole space commencedto vibrate with a strange humming sound which resembled violins, violoncellos, flageolets and flutes being played upon very faintly. The sounds were so weirdly fascinating that any one might have imaginedit proceeded from a little group of Eastern musicians playing uponreeds in order to charm some snake to uncoil and become sociable aftera lengthy seclusion in its wicker-work basket. 

"What is that music?" asked Ridgwell. 

"The eight Dolphins of the fountains are humming happily. They arewaiting to carry out my commands, " answered the Lion. 

Once again the Lion whistled four times. 

Ridgwell and Christine, who were listening intently, could hear thescurrying of flying feet racing along. The sound drew nearer andnearer, until several dark forms were jostling each other immediatelyin front of where they stood, and they could feel the warm breath ofsome living things upon their hands. Suddenly in the darkness therewas a chorus of hoarse laughter. 

Ridgwell and Christine started slightly. 

"Are they spirits?" inquired Ridgwell, with a note of anxiety in hisvoice. 

"No, " vouchsafed the Lion, "only the four merry laughing little Lionsfrom outside Westminster Abbey. They are the most ridiculous creaturesin all London. 

"Stop laughing, " commanded the Lion. 

"Hear me, Gamble, Grin, Grub, and Carry-on-Merry, and hearkenattentively. 

"Carry-on-Merry, have you all stopped laughing?" demanded the Lion. 

"Yes, mighty Lal, we are simply grinning at present, which is as nearto being serious as we can ever become. We are only waiting for yourcommands. "

The Lion lifted up his mighty head and called, "Silence, Dolphins. "

Immediately the curious sounds of humming ceased. 

"The party I give is to be the most beautiful in the world, displayingwonders such as no Emperor can procure. Each of the Four Seasons shallappear before us, perfect in every way, to be followed by the Pavilionof Gold. "

"It shall be done, O Lal. "

"My guests will be all the stray children of London. Call them fromevery street and court, from out every by-way, alley, and lane. "

"They are all here waiting, O Lal. "

"Good. Also gather together all the lost and stray dogs of London, every single one who is wandering about to-night. "

"They have all been summoned, O Lal. "

"The Royalty present will include Queen Boadicea, King Richard I. , KingCharles I. , and St. George. "

"Each has received a royal invitation, O Lal, and the Royal personageswill all be pleased to attend. "

"Each boy and girl is to be dressed in the most costly costume, according to their taste. "

"All is prepared for them, Lal, and even as you desire, great splendourawaits them, and nothing will be lacking for their perfect enjoyment. "

"Good; see that all is well done, and be ready to begin when I give thesignal. You understand?"

"We understand, " laughed the four merry Lions. 

"We obey, " squeaked the Dolphins. 

"Only one thing remains to be done, to dress you, Ridgwell, and you, Christine. "

"What shall we be dressed in?" inquired Christine. 

"Shut your eyes, " said the Lion gently, "and stretch your hands overthe lake of the fountain and take what the Dolphins give you. Theyknow what you want, and their taste in such matters is exquisite. "

The children shut their eyes and obeyed. The Lion leant over the rimof the lake and whispered to the Dolphins--

"Dress the boy like a prince, and the girl like a little queen. Therichest stuff, mind, five guineas a yard. Give her a crown of thewhitest daisies with shell pink petal tips for a crown. No jewels, nopearls, no, no. 

 Take, oh take the pearls away, For they bring tears, the wise men say. 

chanted the Lion in his rich double bass. "Give them both jewelledshoe buckles; give the boy jewelled levée buttons for his satinbreeches, a plain gold circlet for his head. A train for the girl fromher shoulders, of pure cloth of gold; bring it light, so that it doesnot weigh heavily. White satin for the boy, with richest figuredvelvet doublet set with cloth of gold. Hang round their necks now, with all its luminous jewels, the highest order in the world, the Orderof Great Imagination, " commanded the Lion, "For by the Order of GreatImagination they shall see things that no one else can see, they shallbe able to listen to things that no one else shall be able to hear. They shall delight in the exquisiteness of things as no one else candelight in them, who has not received this order. For I declare to youall that a child who has this glittering order shall know of thingsthat nobody else in the whole world shall know of. Everything isready. "

"Let us have Spring, " commanded the Lion. 

Immediately the words were uttered there came the soft beating ofbirds' wings over Ridgwell's head. The atmosphere instantly becamefragrant with the myriad scents of wild flowers. 

A mist seemed to swim for a second before their eyes, and, as itcleared away, they were standing together with many other childrenknee-deep in unending banks of bluebells and primroses. 

They were in the midst of the most perfect wooded dell they had everbeheld. 

Thousands of delicate flower-stems thrust their tiny spears from earthand emerald moss, blossoming with flowers before their wondering eyes. 

The spiral hedges slowly shook out dappled clusters of white hawthorn. 

The interlaced trees above them, amidst which all the birds inChristendom appeared to be carolling simultaneously, gently outspreadfriendly arms, overladen with powdered red and white may blossom. 

Butterflies with gaily painted wings hovered tenderly overhead, andtiny silver thistledown balls sailed across the blue sky spaces, likelittle wayward balloons without anybody in charge of them. 

"You can all pick as many flowers as you like, " suggested the Lion. "Flowers were meant for the children to pick, so make yourselvesnosegays, garlands, and crowns galore. There are no notices _here_ tokeep off the grass. You can also chase the butterflies if you like, but I warn you that you will never catch them. As a matter of factthat is the one thing I don't permit. Any butterfly with really nicefeelings objects most decidedly when a pin is run through its body, asmuch as a happy fish hates to be caught upon a hook. I sympathise withboth of them, and consider such practices ought to be stopped. "

Ridgwell, well-nigh immersed in a bank of bluebells, listened in asemi-enchanted condition to the Lion's words of wisdom, and watched thebrilliant-coloured butterflies chasing each other in the pearly spacesabove him. 

Christine, grasping a great yellow bunch of primroses in each hand, ceased picking flowers and watched the bright-eyed squirrels andrabbits gambolling everywhere around. 

"Ridgie, have you noticed all the rabbits and squirrels are quite tame?"

"Of course they're tame, " agreed the Lion, "Nobody here to hurt them;why, they will come and eat out of your hand. "

"Why is that?" asked Ridgwell. 

"No guns or traps, " chuckled the Lion. "Any animal respectably broughtup is indignant at the very thought of a gun or a trap; consequentlythey keep themselves to themselves, and seldom go out into society. "

Ridgwell's gaze roamed over the lovely spring landscape, and restedupon the masses of flowers the other children were picking. 

"Everything here is just as it ought to be, isn't it, Lal?"

"Every single thing, " answered the Lion. "But it is going to change, you know, almost directly. "

"Change?" echoed Ridgwell. "Why, Lal?"

The Pleasant-Faced Lion chuckled softly, and lifting his head, calledout, "Summer. "

Immediately the Lion said "Summer, " everything around commenced toalter most strangely. 

Banks of primroses became stretches of sparkling golden sands, and thegreat masses of bluebells, after swaying once or twice, dissolvedthemselves into the misty rippling waves of a summer sea. 

Christine and Ridgwell, looking hopelessly perplexed, found they wereeach in a tiny boat with a pearly sail, skimming over shallow bluewaters that sparkled like sapphires. 

The sky over their heads had changed to the burning blue of a summerday. The air was filled with the sweet salt spray of the sea, whichdescended in delicious showers upon all of them. 

"Have all the children got boats?" demanded the Lion. 

"All, " shrilled the Dolphins. "Their boats can't upset, Lal, and thewaters are transparent, and shallow enough for them to fish up colouredshells, coral, and mother-of-pearl. There's a sunken treasure-shiphalf buried in the sands far upon the other side, Lal, if they sail forit. "

"They'll all make for that safe enough, " answered the Lion. "Pushtheir boats off, Dolphins, and help them all to land upon the farshore. "

The Dolphins, splashing the water into little white frothy waves, accompanied the little bobbing fleet of pearl-boats, and sang gaily asthey swam alongside. 

 "Blue and gold on the summer sea, Each little mast with a sail of pearl, Each dipping boat holds a boy or girl, A most enchanting argosy. A ship one's longed for most perhaps That cannot anyhow collapse. 

 We'll sail away to the golden strand, And maybe discover No Man's Land; Each one of us will get a peep Into the wonders of the deep, Dredging for shells of brilliant hue, And discovering mermaids too. 

 Sing ho! for a galleon of Spanish gold, With jewels and ivory in the hold. What treasure we'll find upon the main! What triumph when we sail home again! The wonder of every lad and lass Will be the booty we amass. "

After a short but entrancing voyage, and even whilst Ridgwell andChristine stood with the other children waist-deep in the great carvenhold of the sunken Spanish galleon, shovelling out golden doubloons andprecious jewels, the sound of Lal's voice came across the water to them. 

"Autumn, ahoy!" shouted Lal. 

 * * * * *

"Isn't it bewildering, Chris?" lamented Ridgwell. "Only a second agowe were enthroned in a castle of golden coins and precious stones, andnow, without any sort of warning whatever, we are standing upon the topof a waggon-load of newly-mown hay. "

"Yes, Ridgie, and look at Lal across there, laughing about it likeanything. "

"He certainly does play tricks with us, Chris. See, he is sending allthe children racing across to draw our hay-cart with those ropes ofacorns and leaves they are holding. Hullo!" broke off Ridgwell, "somebody is throwing things at me, and if they continue doing it Ishall jolly well start throwing back again. "

Christine looked up from the stack of loose hay surrounding her in thecart upon which they stood. 

"Why, it's apples, " announced Christine. 

"Where?" inquired her brother. 

"Look, Ridgie, overhead, hundreds of them hanging from every tree. Wecan reach them quite easily. "

There could be no doubt about the matter. Rosy apples ripened by thesun dangled in clusters overhead, and gently fell down at the verymoment when any one felt disposed to eat them. 

Within easy reach grew trailing brambles smothered with ripened patchesof fragrant blackberries. 

The Pleasant-Faced Lion lifted up his voice and inquired if the companypresent desired anything better, at the season they were now passingthrough, than unlimited apples, blackberries, and hay. 

"No, " came a simultaneous chorus from all the children. 

"Good, " replied the Lion. "After you have all eaten as many apples andblackberries as you want, the battle of the new-mown hay will start. Ishall be the umpire. If Ridgwell and Christine can throw enough hayfrom their big cart to bury all the children around them, they willhave won. If the other children can throw up enough hay to completelysmother the cart, Ridgwell and Christine will have lost. Now start, "laughed the Lion. 

"Look here, Chris, we must get to work, so here goes. "

Whereupon Ridgwell seized a big armful of loose hay and awaited theattack. 

"We have the advantage of height, " observed Christine, as she hastilygathered as much hay as she could hold, "and you know, Ridgie, it ismuch easier for us to throw down than it is for them to throw up. "

"How about numbers?" objected Ridgwell; "why, it's two againsthundreds, Chris. "

Then the battle commenced. That engagement was a memorable one amidstthe scented hay. Not infrequently it happened that only a laughingeye, or the tip of a small nose was anywhere visible to show who mightbe the victor. Nobody will ever be quite sure who won, and it isdoubtful if the point was ever decided. 

Ridgwell, feeling very smothered up, was remarking to Christine inmuffled tones that he thought they must have lost, when the voice ofLal announced "Winter. "

"Don't you feel buried, Chris?"

"Yes, " came the unexpected reply, "I am. I'm simply buried in furs andsnow!"

"Furs and snow?" repeated Ridgwell incredulously. "What on earth doyou mean, Chris? Oh, good gracious, Chris, I've got an extraordinaryfeeling I'm falling over a sort of precipice. "

"So we are, " rejoined Christine philosophically. "Don't you see, Ridgie, that Lal has changed everything again. We are on a toboggansleigh, and just starting down no end of a steep hill. "

Ridgwell rubbed the finely powdered snow out of his eyes. 

An entrancing winter scene lay below them. Giant blue-green pine-treeswere dotted about over the glistening snow which flashed with a milliondiamond sparkles. All the children were clad in beautiful furs. 

Some of them were sliding and skating, others snowballing and tumblingin the snow. 

"Hang on, Ridgwell and Christine, " shouted the Lion, "your toboggan hasstarted at a pretty good pace. Hold tight. "

Ridgwell and Christine shut their eyes, and as neither of them had anybreath during that wild descent, they could only compare notesafterwards as to the amazing sensations they experienced during thesemoments. 

When the toboggan had finally brought itself to a standstill Ridgwellextricated himself and viewed the snow-powdered spaces in front of thema trifle apprehensively. Bounding along towards them raced a pack ofanimals. Their eyes were glistening and their tongues hanging out. 

"Wolves!" muttered Ridgwell. "Oh! I say, Chris, I don't think I quitecare about meeting wolves. Do you? They don't look very friendlyeither, by the way they are coming along. "

"It's the stray dogs, " shouted Christine; "and look, Carry-on-Merry isputting little teams of them into sleighs to draw us along. "

"Sleigh races about to start, " called the Lion. "Take your seats, shake the reins and you will hear the silver bells tinkle. The firstsleigh to reach the farthest pine-trees wins the race. Off you go. "

Away flew the dogs, drawing the children over the powdered snow tracks. 

After the race Carry-on-Merry collected all the children together. 

"I propose a snowball match, " grinned Carry-on-Merry. "Gamble, Grin, Grub, and myself upon one side, against all you children. "

"Ho, ho, ho!" laughed the Pleasant-Faced Lion. "My goodness, what abeating all you children are going to have. Why, Carry-on-Merry andhis lot can manufacture snowballs as quick as lightning. "

The battle commenced without delay, and it was a terrific conflict. 

Hundreds of little snowballs whizzed through the air. 

"Ha! ha!" laughed the Pleasant-Faced Lion, "the children areretreating. Carry-on-Merry, Gamble, Grin, and Grub, I believe you arethe champion snowballers of the world. I think myself you must haveacquired the gift from some unusually impish urchins whose methods youhave closely observed round Westminster way. I consider your skillquite in accordance with the best street traditions. "

The children were eventually snowballed to a standstill, and flingingaway their remaining ammunition rolled themselves over on the snow toavoid any more of the unerring missiles of Carry-on-Merry and his band. 

"Give in, " demanded the Lion pleasantly. 

"Never!" laughed the children. 

"But you're beaten, you know, " insisted the Lion. "Carry-on-Merry, youcan take them all prisoners and escort them to the Pavilion of Gold. "

Even whilst the children were tumbling in the snow the atmospherebecame inky black. 

The darkness was not in any way alarming; it had taken place sogradually that they scarcely noticed it, which only intensified themarvellous change which was to follow. 

CHAPTER III

THE GOLDEN PAVILION

Christine and Ridgwell never forgot the sight that met their eyes whenthe strange transformation took place. It was dazzling in its beautyand it was some seconds before they could realise the full wonder ofit. The dimness of the light changed to the most exquisiteilluminations imaginable. 

Christine and Ridgwell realised that the party was to take place in agorgeous golden pavilion. 

The fountains, which had slid to either end of the pavilion, shot upbrilliant globes of changing light which hovered in the air like tinycoloured air balls, whilst the tops of the fountains spraying a goldenmist, were echoed again in the lustrous glow of walls and roof. 

From the pearly dome whose outline was only faintly suggested overhead, and upon every side, hung myriad stacks of flowers, which now and againfell in fragrant jewelled showers upon the children, just as soon aseach blossom had grown into perfection. 

Upon a golden dais at one end were King Richard and King Charles cladin glittering silver armour, with Queen Boadicea arrayed in purple, inthe centre; whilst St. George stood beside them in shining goldensplendour. 

Ridgwell and Christine stood beside the Pleasant-Faced Lion uponanother dais immediately facing the royal personages. The Lion was nolonger a dull, copper green hue; his whole body had changed to thecolour of burnished gold and his great mane shone like a sun. 

Forty children dressed in the vermilion and black of Beef-eaters fromthe Tower with halberts in their hands, lined the way up the shallowgolden steps to each dais, twenty upon either side. 

The Lion gave his last orders for the ceremony--

"Gamble, Grin, Grub, and Carry-on-Merry, sound the Merry Fanfare onyour silver trumpets!"

The four little lions gaily arrayed in scarlet and gold advanced intothe centre of the great space and executed a remarkable fanfare, whichwithout being entirely a march, or wholly a waltz, was neverthelessdelightful to listen to. 

Immediately a procession of the most lovely children entered, dressedin every brilliant costume imaginable. 

The delicious fragrance of the scented golden mist, diffused from thetwo fountains, filled the air as the happy and beautiful children, boysand girls, danced into the pavilion. They all paused to bow to theRoyalty present, and St. George; then they advanced to where Ridgwelland Christine stood beside the Pleasant-Faced Lion. 

They greeted the Lion as an old acquaintance and blew him kisses asthey passed. 

As they moved along, glittering in costly silks and satins, winding inand out with the changing colours of a rainbow, Ridgwell spoke to theLion--

"Lal, Christine and I have never seen so many lovely children before. Surely these are not the stray ragged children of London? Why, theirfaces are the colour of the new roses that are falling everywhere aboutus, and look how bright their eyes are!"

The Lion smiled, then pointed to the scented golden spray beingshowered from the two fountains. 

"They look lovely as you see them, " said the Lion, "because perpetualhealth, and love, and happiness are being diffused upon them from thefountains. Outside they were different, " continued the Lion; "but herethe dark circles disappear from beneath their eyes, which become brightand full of love, as they ought to be, the little puckers of care andwant are sponged out of their faces by the spray from the fountain. The pallor of their faces changes to rosy health and beauty as itshould; the pinched look many of them wear, gives place to roundnessand the happy laughing curves of childhood that doesn't know or reckonof any care. "

"But, Lal, where do all these wonderful things come from?" questionedRidgwell; "the great canopy, the golden carpet, all the costumes andthe jewels?"

The Lion chuckled. "They all come out of the fountains, straight fromthe warehouses of the merchants. The Dolphins bring them. Everythingcomes from the fountains. "

"You see, " proceeded the Lion, "there is going to be plenty to eat anddrink and everything of the best. " Once again the Lion pointed towardsthe two fountains: "See the eight golden dolphins with their goldentrays, they hand up delicious cakes, the best fruit, ices, lemonade, chocolates, sandwiches, anything you want. "

"Shall we have some of those delightful things to eat too?" askedRidgwell. 

"Oh, be reassured, my child, " smiled the Lion, "the Dolphins won'tforget either you or Christine, they will dance up to you with theirtrays filled with everything you want. "

"If all those other children look so very beautiful, what do _we_ looklike?" Ridgwell asked the Lion in a whisper. "You see there are nolooking-glasses, are there?"

For the first time the children remembered to look at one another. 

Christine was the first to speak, and it was with a cry of greatdelight she turned to Ridgwell--

"Oh, Ridgie, you are lovely, " said Christine. 

"Course he is, " said the Lion. 

"I don't know about that, " said Ridgwell hesitatingly. "I think youhave made a mistake in the excitement. "

"I've not, " insisted Christine; "why, you look like a beautiful littlePrince. "

Here Ridgwell, who, overcome with modesty at these tributes, had beenexamining his jewelled shoe-buckles with downcast eyes, looked up athis sister. 

"Well, how about you?" exclaimed Ridgwell. "Why, you look like alovely fairy queen----"

"Course she does, " said the Lion. 

"Don't be silly, Ridgie, " said Christine, severely. 

"I'm not, " asserted Ridgwell. "I've never seen you look like that. Perhaps, " added Ridgwell, "these glittering orders we wear round ournecks have something to do with it. "

"You're right, " said the Lion, "the priceless Order of GreatImagination enables you to see everything that is beautiful as itreally is, and, of course, everything here is beautiful, so, " added theLion logically, "why should you both be different from anything else?"

The Lion beckoned to one of the Dolphins. 

"Here, " said the Lion, as the Dolphin approached them, "hold up yourburnished golden tray and let the boy see himself. "

The Dolphin held up the polished tray and Ridgwell looked into itwonderingly. 

"My goodness, " said the Lion, "I thought girls were vain, but boys areworse!"

"That _can't_ be me, " said Ridgwell. 

"Well, it isn't me, " grumbled the Lion, "that's certain. "

Christine peeped over the shoulder of Ridgwell's golden tunic. 

"It's like us, " said Christine, "but yet it isn't us at all. "

"That is what people always say when they see their own photographs forthe first time, " observed the Lion wisely. "Ha!" broke off the Lion, "here come the dogs. "

"Have you placed the two long troughs at the far end for them?"demanded the Lion. 

"Yes, " chorussed the little lions. 

"What have you filled them with?" questioned the Lion. 

"Finest mutton and chicken bones in one, " laughed Carry-on-Merry, "water in the other. "

"Have you remembered their special strip of comfortable carpet?" askedthe Lion anxiously. 

"It's there, " grinned Carry-on-Merry. 

"Why are the stray dogs to have a strip of special comfortable carpet?"asked Christine. 

"Because they like to pick the bones afterwards upon the carpet, " saidthe Lion; "it's a little habit of theirs, and they are not so highlytrained as we are. "

A most extraordinary procession now made its appearance before them. The children might have thought it was a Noah's Ark, only the dogsadvanced in fours. Newfoundlands, St. Bernards, Mastiffs, Retrievers, every conceivable dog down to tiny fox terriers, Spaniels and Yorkshireterriers. They all looked very happy and their coats shone as if theyhad been lately washed and had afterwards dried themselves in thegolden rays of the warm sun, which even now seemed to linger over them. 

"Lovely creatures, " said Christine. 

"Ripping, " said Ridgwell, "they are dears. "

"Started to munch their bones already, " grunted the Lion. "Well, they're not so highly educated as we are. A party to them is a party, and they don't wait for anybody, which, after all, is the proper thingto do. Where's the Griffin?" demanded the Lion of Carry-on-Merry, after that intelligent creature, having acted like a verger (a habit hehad probably acquired from a life-long proximity to Westminster Abbey), had shown all the dogs to their places along one side where thecomfortable carpet formed a sort of aisle. 

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed Carry-on-Merry, "the Griffin is late. "

"He's always late, " grumbled the Lion, "his head's weak, and he nevercan remember what time a party starts. "

"Here he comes, " grunted Carry-on-Merry, "and, oh! my goodness, what_does_ he look like?"

"Absolutely ludicrous as usual, " said the Lion. 

The Griffin presented an intensely comical appearance. Wishing to keepup the dignity of the City, he had chosen for his party-dress a scarletLord Mayor's robe, edged with fur, which he had folded around himselfin an exceedingly ridiculous fashion. 

Upon his head, as he believed it to be becoming, he had placed jauntilysideways, an immense green dunce's cap from one of the children's giantcrackers, which the Griffin had pulled as he entered the doors. 

The Griffin had decided to adorn his front feet with strips of scarletflannel, because he declared that he had chilblains, and furthermore, his paws were exceedingly tender after his encounter upon the previousevening with St. George. 

It was thus that the Griffin ambled in trailing his Lord Mayor's robesbehind him, and smiling aimlessly from right to left upon everybodypresent. 

"Has everybody missed me?" sniggered the Griffin. "I fear I'm late!"

"Nobody has missed you at all, " retorted the Pleasant-Faced Lion. 

The Griffin looked hurt for a moment. 

"Oh, surely, Lal, " entreated the Griffin; "_surely_ some one missed me!"

"No, " said the Lion firmly. 

The corners of the Griffin's mouth trembled. 

"Now then, " said the Lion, sternly, "no emotion. "

"No! no! Lal, " faltered the Griffin, "but when I think of that lovelysaying, 'Everybody's Loved by Some one'----"

"There are exceptions to every rule, " snapped the Lion. 

"Oh, " sniggered the Griffin, "then it does apply even to me, for Imyself am an exception. There is only one of me, " ended the Griffineagerly, "only one in all London. "

"Some things don't bear repeating, " said the Lion. 

The Griffin's weak memory came to his aid at this awkward moment:

"That must particularly apply to your last remark, " simpered theGriffin. 

"You have heard somebody else say that, " objected the Lion. 

"True, " sniggered the Griffin, "and it will not be the first time thatthe remembrance of other people's sayings have passed for wit; and Ihave always so longed to be a wit, " sighed the Griffin. "Don't youthink, Lal, that I might one day be a wit?" inquired the Griffinanxiously. 

"No, " said the Lion, "I don't; you have none of the necessaryqualifications. "

Once again the Griffin's mouth trembled piteously. 

"Oh, Lal, " implored the Griffin, "think, only think again. "

"I couldn't, " answered the Lion, "some things don't bear thinkingabout. "

The Griffin, with two tears trembling in his eyes, clasped hisflannel-wrapped foreclaws together beseechingly and changed the natureof his supplication:

"Very well, Lal, then perhaps as you have never seen me act, I mightarrange some theatricals and amuse the children and the companypresent. Of course, " simpered the Griffin, "I should play the chieffunny part myself; wouldn't it be wonderful if I played the chief funnypart myself?"

The Lion looked at the Griffin contemplatively for a second: "You willnever be funnier than you are now, " remarked the Lion, "and we are notgoing to have any theatricals at all, the children are going to dance. "

"The very thing, " agreed the Griffin. "I will lead them; I dance sobeautifully. "

"No, " said the Lion firmly, "if any one leads them it will beCarry-on-Merry, but they won't want any leading at all. The best thingyou can do is to keep quite quiet and make yourself useful. "

"Oh, Lal, don't ask me to be useful, " shuddered the Griffin. "It issuch a dreadful word, and _anybody_ can be useful. "

"You think so, " said the Lion, as he smiled his wisest smile. 

"I must be something far better than that, " remonstrated the Griffin, "and it has just struck me that I had better go round and find out fromeverybody what they would like me to do, " and the Griffin moved offeagerly to gather the opinions of everybody present as to this mostinteresting point which concerned him so closely. 

"Always dying to show off, " grunted the Lion. "You can see in theGriffin the absolute type of one who being weak in the head and totallyunable to do anything, is nevertheless always longing to show offbefore others, who are cleverer than himself. "

"Perhaps he will find somebody who wants him to do something, "suggested Ridgwell, hopefully; "but why didn't he want to be useful?"

"Because the poor Griffin believes himself to be extremely ornamental, and therefore, like all conceited people, he will never be able to seehimself as he is in reality. He wishes to lead before he has been ableto learn. "

Carry-on-Merry, Gamble, Grin, and Grub had by this time fixed up astrangely decorated Maypole; it was nothing less than St. George'sPillar, but so bedecked with hanging flowers and brilliant silkencorded ribbons that the children had some difficulty in recognising itagain. 

Then the four laughing lions could be seen racing along with a mostwonderful piano-organ, into which Gamble, Grin, and Grub wereharnessed, whilst Carry-on-Merry turned the handle. 

It must at once be admitted that this particular musical instrumentdiffered very considerably from any piano-organ ever heard in thestreets, and it could never have come anywhere from the neighbourhoodof Saffron Hill. 

It discoursed the sweetest music in the nature of a dance tune that wasirresistible, and the feet of all the children present started in timeto it simultaneously. 

"Now, Ridgwell, " said the Lion, "take Christine and dance with her. Orwould you sooner stay here and look on at the sight?"

"I shall do both, " asserted Ridgwell, "dance first and look onafterwards. "

"Good, " assented the Lion; "an able definition of eating your cake andhaving it at the same time. Off you go then. "

"Won't the Kings, Boadicea, and St. George dance too?" asked Christine. 

"No, George doesn't dance, " said the Lion, "neither do the Royalty;they graciously look on. I don't dance either, I do not consider itdignified, so I sit here, conduct the ceremony, and beat time to themusic with my paw. "

That dance was the wildest, gladdest, merriest thing the children everremembered, and the threads of golden light filtering through the flashof the coloured costumes as they wound in and out, added tints ofsplendour as of an ancient pageant. 

Who could keep from dancing to such an exquisite tune, and who couldhelp being glad when ropes of lovely flowers were being twined roundlovelier childish faces, flower-like themselves, flushed with gayexcitement, with perfect health, with gladness?

Ribbons of changing light they threaded in and out, round and through, no one could tell how many times, and over all the golden scented dewof perfect health and beauty fell from the two fountains upon theup-turned faces. 

It is true the Griffin made several ineffectual attempts to breakthrough the laughing, whirling ring, under the impression that thecircle was incomplete without him, but Gamble, Grin, and Grub werealways at hand to pull him back, and prevent this amiable but mistakenintrusion. 

From the piano-organ which he turned so gaily, Carry-on-Merry found itwas necessary to caution the Griffin after his last frantic attempt tobreak through the ring of dancing children. 

"I want to dance, " urged the Griffin. 

"I think you want a keeper, " grinned Carry-on-Merry, "or a policeman orsomething, to keep you in order. "

The Griffin turned pale. 

"Oh! no, " implored the Griffin, "not a _policeman_. "

"Well, then, behave, " grinned Carry-on-Merry. 

"Very well, " sulked the Griffin, "as I am not wanted I think I shall gohome and give a party to myself. "

"Don't go, " grinned Carry-on-Merry, "I have thought of something youcould do presently. "

The Griffin flushed with delight. 

"Will it be something grand?" asked the Griffin breathlessly, "something that will show me off, something that will make me talkedabout, something so big that it won't be like anything else?"

"Rather, " grinned Carry-on-Merry; "you bet it won't be like anythingelse, at least, " added Carry-on-Merry truthfully, "it won't be likeanything else I have ever known. "

"Oh, thank you, thank you, " gushed the Griffin. "I could swoon withjoy, I feel so overwrought that I shall go to one of the fountains andask the dear Dolphins for some light refreshment. "

"No, you don't, " instantly objected Carry-on-Merry, "the dance isnearly over, and the children are all going there immediately; youwould only be in the way, but, " added Carry-on-Merry, with a wickedtwinkle in his eyes, "I have a much finer idea than that. "

"Really?" inquired the Griffin. "Really a fine idea?"

"Ripping, " responded Carry-on-Merry, as he mysteriously produced froman inside pocket of his royal scarlet coat a big white damask dinnernapkin. 

"What _can_ it be for?" simpered the Griffin; "and will it help to showme off to advantage?" he anxiously inquired. 

"Rather, " said Carry-on-Merry. "Listen! Put this dinner napkin overyour face, sit in a corner and go to sleep. Now the _most_ remarkablething you could do in an assembly like this to attract attention, wouldbe to go to sleep. "

The Griffin for a moment looked dubious. "Then, " said Carry-on-Merrywith a still more wicked gleam in his mischievous eyes, "I will tellevery one that you are 'The Sleeping Beauty' and everybody willimmediately want to see you. "

"How lovely, " sighed the Griffin, "and I shall look the part and be thepart; in fact, " added the Griffin, "I shall be _the_ thing of theevening. "

"_You will_, " rejoined Carry-on-Merry enigmatically, "but that is notall. When I wake you up at last, of course all the children willlaugh. "

"What at?" inquired the Griffin suspiciously. 

"Why, for joy at the discovery. "

"Humph!" debated the Griffin, "only joy--not admiration?"

"Oh, yes, " glibly replied Carry-on-Merry, "admiration, of course, andthe sheer beauty of the thing. Ha! ha! ha!"

"Yes, yes, " eagerly interrupted the Griffin, "sheer beauty soundsbetter, sounds more like me. "

"Of course it does, " laughed Carry-on-Merry. "Then perhaps I shall askyou to sing. "

"Oh! Carry-on-Merry, " faltered the Griffin in a broken voice, "youhave touched my heart--that is the very thing I was waiting forsomebody to ask me to do. To sing, " rhapsodised the Griffin--"to belike one of those great singers out of the opera, to pour out one'sheart tones, to be gazed at by every eye, to be listened to by everyear, to be the adored of all. How can I thank you? How can I repayyou?"

"Don't, please, " implored Carry-on-Merry, who appeared to be chokinginwardly, "don't thank me any more now, I can't bear it--some othertime. "

"Yet stay, " cried the Griffin, with unexpected and dramatic suddenness, "who is going to kiss me?"

"Kiss you?" echoed Carry-on-Merry blankly, "kiss you? Good gracious!I give it up. "

"Yet, " pondered the Griffin, "somebody had to kiss the Sleeping Beauty!"

"You won't find anybody to do it, " said Carry-on-Merry decisively. 

"Why not?" asked the Griffin sharply. 

"I mean, " amended Carry-on-Merry, "nobody could be found for the momentof sufficient importance. "

"Oh, I see, " replied the Griffin, "yet perhaps Boadicea would oblige. "

"Out of the question, " said Carry-on-Merry. "Besides you know shenever takes part in any--any--er--_festivities_ at all. "

"True, " lamented the Griffin, "and yet assuredly I must be kissed forthe thing to be natural. "

Carry-on-Merry turned away his head, for Carry-on-Merry almost feltthat he could not trust himself to speak at that moment. Then one ofhis many bright ideas occurred to him. "I know, " rapidly explainedCarry-on-Merry, "I have it; I will find some important personagepresent to give you a rap. "

"Where?" moaned the Griffin, "not on my knuckles. You know I cannotstand anything of that nature on my knuckles. "

"No--no----" grinned Carry-on-Merry. "I mean a tap, just a little tap. "

"I see, " agreed the Griffin. "Very well, one little tap, a tap asdainty as if a feather had brushed me in my sleep. "

"Or a floating piece of thistledown, " laughed Carry-on-Merry. 

"Oh yes, " said the Griffin. "Thistledown sounds more romantic, andthen I shall wake from my dream. "

"I don't think myself you ever will, " observed Carry-on-Merry, quite asif he were thinking of something else. 

"What!" said the Griffin. "Never wake?"

"Yes, yes, " interrupted Carry-on-Merry hastily, "but you have to go tosleep first, you know, and you had better hurry up whilst the childrenare eating, then you won't be observed. "

"But I want to be observed, " objected the Griffin. 

"Of course you do, " insisted Carry-on-Merry, "but that comes later on. Go at once. "

The amiable Griffin departed accordingly to carry out his part of theprogramme, and forthwith lumped himself in a distant corner, with thegrace of a camel who had found sudden and unexpected opportunities ofbenefiting his health through sleep. From this slumber the Griffinfound it necessary to rouse himself after a little while, upon hearingthe children all shouting his name. The entire party having partakenof the delightful refreshments provided according to the variousrequirements of their constitutions, were watching a moving series ofcinematograph pictures of London. 

One of the great golden spaces of the walls formed the screen, Gamble, Grin and Grub, full of laughter, manipulated the cinematograph machine, whilst Carry-on-Merry gaily pointed out the pictures with a big goldenwand. 

All the children loved the pictures, for they were faithful portraitsof themselves as they appeared every day in the London streets, whenthey were not arrayed in gorgeous robes for a Princely Party. 

The streets they knew only too well but yet they loved them. Were theynot always in the streets--were they not passing every day of theirlives the very scenes they were now watching flung upon the screen?The picture being shown at the moment the Griffin heard his namecalled, was a Royal Procession passing Temple Bar. 

Instantly the children recognised the Griffin and called him by name. 

The Griffin awoke, saw himself being shown upon the moving picturefilm, and gave a shriek of delight. 

"Stop! oh, stop!" shrieked the Griffin, as he ambled across toCarry-on-Merry and seized the Gold Wand. "Please don't hurry past thisbeautiful picture. Of course, " cried the Griffin with a silly laugh, "of course it's me, _ME_ with Royalty passing me. Is it notbeautiful?--you can all see for yourselves. I am sitting higher upthan Royalty itself. Notice the way the Royal personages bow and laughas they pass me. "

"They laugh right enough, " agreed Carry-on-Merry. 

"Eh?" said the Griffin suspiciously. 

"The Griffin ought to have been a showman, " observed the Pleasant-FacedLion. 

"Now we pass on to the next picture, " called Carry-on-Merry. 

"Oh, _don't_ hurry, " implored the Griffin. "Don't pass the mostbeautiful of all the pictures in such haste. "

"_Next_ picture, " laughed Carry-on-Merry. 

The Griffin, after bestowing a hurt look upon Carry-on-Merry, retired, and again composed himself for sleep. 

His slumber this time was not destined to be of long duration. 

A grey sombre figure suddenly strode into the brilliant flower-drapedpavilion; a slouch hat made the figure look very sinister, and a swordclanked at his side. 

The figure strode on and scowled darkly at King Richard sittinggracefully upon his charger. "Ho! ho!" called the sombre man in a loudvoice. "Ho! ho!" he repeated with a mirthless laugh. 

King Richard neither moved not took the faintest notice. 

On strode the figure towards King Charles seated upon his charger, andwho was regarding the children with the pleasantest expression possible. 

"Ha!" shouted the figure as it strode along. "Ha! I say, Ha!"

King Charles still smiled gravely and took no notice. The stridingfigure that shouted "Ha!" might never have uttered a word for all thenotice King Charles took of him. 

"Ha!" shouted the figure for the last time. 

Then, seeing that nobody took any notice of him, the figure lookedglum, and folding his arms espied the Griffin peacefully asleep, thewhite dinner napkin covering his fond, foolish face, waiting to beawakened, so the Griffin fondly hoped--awakened by a gentle tap asBeauty. The Griffin's slumber seemed to annoy the sombre manintensely, for without uttering a syllable he drew his sword and smotethe Griffin hard upon the red flannel paws that were folded with a viewto pictorial effect beside the Griffin's covered face. 

There was a shriek of anguish, and the Griffin awoke. 

The pain the Griffin suffered from the blow upon his tender paws was asnothing compared to the blow to the Griffin's feelings when he realisedthat his ineffably touching picture of the Sleeping Beauty had beenspoiled for the evening. A great surge of sudden hatred swept over theGriffin at the swaggering intruder who had dared to strike him, andsimultaneously the Griffin remembered something he had once heard saidby a man in blue wearing a helmet close to where he always stood inFleet Street. 

The Griffin seized Carry-on-Merry's golden wand for the second timethat evening and approached the sombre man of the top boots and theslouch hat menacingly. "Move on, " shouted the Griffin, giving alifelike imitation of the man in blue with a helmet. "Move on, d'yehear?"

The sombre figure backed a little way in astonishment. 

"Move on, " said the Griffin, "out of this; we don't want you here. Orff you go!" The sombre figure retreated a little more. "If I catchyou here again, " said the Griffin pompously, "I will run you in; noloafing here!" The sombre man gave one scowl, sheathed his sword witha clank, and hurriedly took his departure without once looking back oruttering any further remark. 

"Bravo!" muttered the Lion, "that is the first useful thing the Griffinhas done all the evening. "

"Who was that dismal looking man muffled up like a brigand?" askedRidgwell. 

The Lion smiled. "That was Oliver Cromwell. He came to try and spoilthe party. "

"Why?" asked Ridgwell. 

"He doesn't like the extravagance, " said the Lion; "he hates anydisplay, and cannot bear to see children happy. "

"Thank you, Griffin, " said Christine. 

"Listen, all of you, " simpered the Griffin, "some one has thanked me. Oh! Fancy anybody thanking _me_. Has everybody heard me publiclythanked?" asked the Griffin anxiously. 

"Yes, everybody, " said the Lion; "we don't want any more of it. "

The Griffin looked sulky. 

"As long as everybody knows what I did, " said the Griffin. "Nobodyelse thought of doing it. Do you think it was better than my being theSleeping Beauty?" inquired the Griffin eagerly. 

"Yes, " replied the Lion, "it was more realistic. "

"Fancy that, more realistic! how beautiful!" and the Griffin sidledaway, sniggering with self-gratified pride at his own achievement. 

"I am afraid, " explained the Lion to Christine and Ridgwell, "that heintends to sing. "

"But can he sing?" inquired Ridgwell. 

"No, " said the Lion, "it is a wretched performance; yet, like all otherpeople who cannot really sing, he is dying to be asked to do so, and Ifeel sure that some one will be misguided enough to ask him. You see, "explained the Lion, "the Griffin cannot sing in tune, but like mostpeople afflicted in the same way, he is totally unconscious of hisfailing, and really believes his own singing to be quite beautiful. "

Christine and Ridgwell both laughed. "It must be very funny, " theysaid. 

"It is so funny, " answered the Lion, "and so deplorable at the sametime that it is almost beyond a joke. "

Almost before the Lion had finished speaking Carry-on-Merry, with aparticularly wicked laugh, danced to the centre of the bright ball-roomand said he thought that perhaps the Griffin might be persuaded to sing. 

"I thought so, " groaned the Lion. 

The Griffin gurgled with pleasure, and immediately started to look coy, and playfully tap the golden carpet spread upon the ground with hisforepaws, as if he had suddenly discovered some new beauty in thepattern of the luxurious floor covering. 

"Really, " said the Griffin, "I do not think I could. Oh! really _no_. "

"Showing off, " grunted the Lion; "he'll sing in the end, safe enough. Worse luck!"

"With all these beautiful singers here, " smirked the Griffin, "to ask_me_. Oh!--really!"

"Oh, please sing, " everybody murmured politely. 

"Oh--oh!--really, " simpered the Griffin, trying in vain to blush. "Yousee, I am not perhaps in my usual form. "

"What on earth will it be like, then?" ventured the Lion. 

"I am sure you will honour and delight the company, " laughedCarry-on-Merry, with his wickedest laugh. 

"Besides, " demurred the Griffin hesitatingly, "I have two chilblainsand such tender paws, I don't think I could really. "

"We did not ask you to _play_, " interrupted the Lion shortly. 

"No, no, " replied the Griffin hastily, "to sing--I understand. Yes, tosing. Oh--fancy asking _me_ to sing. Well, well, perhaps a few bars. "

"Now we are in for it, " said the Lion, "and I don't suppose you willever hear anything like it again. "

"I do so want to hear the Griffin, " said Ridgwell, "and I really cannotthink what it will be like. "

"Like?" echoed the Lion, "it will be like the effect of the first earlygooseberries of the year without sugar or milk; it will be like slatepencils squeaking upon slates; like a trombone that somebody islearning to play for the first time. However, nothing short of anearthquake will stop him now, for, as I tell you, he is simply dying tosing the moment he thinks anybody at all will listen to him, and thathe can show off. However, " added the Lion, "when it gets beyond allhuman endurance, I make a sign to Richard I. Now the Griffin isterribly frightened of Richard I. "

"Why?" asked both the children. 

"Because the Griffin is afraid that Richard will advance and hit him onthe paws with the big sword he carries. "

"And will he?" asked the children. 

"Yes, " said the Lion, "if it gets too bad. "

Everybody stopped talking now, for the Griffin, after much furtherpressing, had made up his mind what he was going to sing. He decidedto make a start in a key which was indescribable, and with a voice thatresembled the twanging of a banjo that had not been tuned. 

And thus the Griffin sang--

 "Of a merry, merry king I will relate Who owned much silver, gold and plate, And wishing to be up-to-date Within his city, Placed a handsome Griffin outside the gate, A creature pretty. 

 "Yet one thing, the merry, merry king forgot That it would be his Griffin's lot To be very, very cold, or very, very hot, High up in Fleet Street. So slowly the faithful creature got Chilblains upon his feet. 

 "The Griffin grew prettier day by day Directing the traffic along each way, With always a pleasant word to say All along Fleet Street. One trouble alone caused him dismay, His very tender feet. 

 _Chorus--_

 "Oh! my poor tender feet! Of what use are England's laws, Unless they protect my claws And keep me warm in the street? Nothing so young and fair, Ever sniffed Fleet Street air, Ever sang like the Dove-- And--All that I ask is love. "

At this point the Griffin was so overcome by his own performance thathe burst into tears; and despite the excessive hilarity of every onepresent, to say nothing of Carry-on-Merry, who was rolling upon thefloor in his mirth, the Griffin continued to sob, and from time to timewiped away the big tears that rolled down his cheeks with the fur uponthe Lord Mayor's mantle that he wore. 

"It always affects me, " sobbed the Griffin. 

"Yes, " answered the Lion, "it has affected all of us strangely. "

"Nearly been the death of me, " gulped Carry-on-Merry. 

"I think I will go home now, " said the Griffin, as he surreptitiouslywiped away the last tears and prepared to depart. 

"Oh, don't think of leaving us yet, " said the Lion. 

"Very well, " sniffed the Griffin; "perhaps I may be asked to singagain. "

"Not if I know it, " whispered the Lion in an undertone; "oneperformance of that nature is quite sufficient for one evening. "

At this moment Carry-on-Merry announced that the dogs, wishing toreturn thanks for the general pleasantness of the party, and beingunable to sing themselves, had deputed one of their number, a mostintelligent bob-tail sheep-dog, to compose an ode. 

This particular dog, it was thought, had some claims as a poet, sincehe was a lineal descendant of the canine companion who invariablyaccompanied Robert Burns in all his wanderings. 

The three laughing little lions would now sing the ode the bob-tailedsheep-dog had composed, with the general permission of the company. 

"Let us hear it, " said the Lion. 

"Oh! fancy singing after me, " remarked the Griffin. 

"Yes, " agreed the Lion, "it shows great courage. "

Gamble, Grin, and Grub arranged themselves in order, and Gamblecommenced--

 "Cross Chelsea Bridge, by Chelsea town There is a place called Battersea. The very name to Christian dog's Will make them shudder fearfully. "

Here Grin took up the solo. 

 "A place where gloomy prison doors Do shut up homeless dogs If ever they get lost, or stray During the London fogs. "

Grub hereupon came forward. 

 "When once inside that citadel Within three days or four, They send you to a dreadful room Where you never bark no more. "

Then came the Chorus--

 "Pleasant-Faced Lion, our thanks to thee For having avoided Battersea. "

"Very well sung, " admitted the Lion. "I suppose that, being always soclose to Westminster Abbey, the little lions have taken some usefulhints from what they have heard going on inside. 

"The time has come for the party to finish, " announced thePleasant-Faced Lion, "but before it is ended----"

"Has it got to end now?" Ridgwell asked wistfully. 

"Everything has to come to an end some time, " replied the Lion quietly, "from ices and parties to empires and the world. However, " he addedencouragingly, "one can always look forward to some possible andpleasant continuation of almost everything, although, perhaps, ondifferent, not to say advanced lines. Before you children go I shallbe able to show you the most wonderfully coloured transformation sceneyou have ever witnessed. Watch carefully the long wall of the Pavilionwhich you are facing, " commanded the Lion. 

Carry-on-Merry romped up at this moment laughing as merrily as when theevening commenced. 

"Time?" inquired Carry-on-Merry. 

The Pleasant-Faced Lion nodded. 

"Yes, now, " he said. 

Slowly the golden wall and the roof with its masses of brilliantlyhanging flowers seemed to fade away. 

The children knew it was Trafalgar Square they were looking at onceagain, yet a Trafalgar Square transformed out of all resemblance to itsusual familiar aspect. 

As the walls appeared to drop before their eyes a brilliant goldenbungalow palace with the children dressed as Scarlet Beefeaters groupeddown its shining steps glimmered through the rose-pink light in whichthey beheld it. Surely it could not be the National Gallery!

All the children present passed and repassed before it in theirdazzling costumes, making vivid splashes of colour, as changeful and asfascinating as a kaleidoscope. 

The fountains still sprayed their mists of violet, amethyst and gold. 

"Mark the changing colours well, " said the Lion, "and take in all thepicture well, for you will not see it ever like this again. "

The happy fresh voices of the children were still singing with a rareoutburst of melody--

 "Pleasant-Faced Lion, our thanks to thee, For all your hospitality. "

"Amen!" said the Lion. "Come, Ridgwell and Christine, jump on!"commanded the Lion, as he sank down in order to enable the two childrento get on his back. "Home now!"

Both the children looked back many times, of course. They saw thegolden bungalow palace for the last time in all its changing lights. Noticed that Queen Boadicea stood majestically upon the topmost stepwith King Richard upon one side of her and King Charles upon the other. St. George stood with his armour flashing a few steps below. The fourmerry dogs were gathered around him, whilst Carry-on-Merry was restinghis laughing head in one of St. George's hands. 

The coloured lights grew paler, a mist danced before their eyes, thentwinkled and disappeared. 

"It is gone, " said Ridgwell, "and oh! how dark the streets look now!"

"But _what_ a party, " said Christine. 

"And what a feast, " added Ridgwell. 

"Yes, " replied the Lion philosophically, "it is really remarkable howtimes have changed. In the olden days, long, long ago, everything wasreversed. For instance, it was the Lions who were then provided withthe feast, and the children who were eaten. "

"Horrid!" shivered Ridgwell. "You mean, Lal, those wicked RomanEmperors who let the poor Christians be eaten?"

"My child, " announced the Lion gravely, "free meals have invariablybeen productive of much unpleasant discussion and inquiries afterwards. But see now, " he added coaxingly, "the perfect state of perfection theworld has arrived at. The Pleasant Lions give the banquet themselvesnow. Every single thing to-night was provided by Lions. I gave theparty--I, the Pleasant-Faced Lion. The four laughing lions fromWestminster helped. Richard Coeur-de-Lion presided, and Messrs. Lyonsprovided all the refreshments. "

"Any rate, Lal, " observed Ridgwell, "although Christine and I both loveyou, of course--lions must have been very cruel and savage once, otherwise they wouldn't have _thought_ of eating anybody, would they?"

"Ah, my little boy, " replied the Pleasant-Faced Lion softly, "if youwere kept without food for days and days I wonder what you would do. "

"Tuck in like mad the first chance I got, " announced Ridgwell withconviction. 

"Perhaps the lions did the same thing, " observed Lal gently. "However, I feel I cannot offer any excuse for their past conduct; yet, "continued the Pleasant-Faced Lion wisely, as he jogged contentedly on, homewards towards Balham, "I have a fair proposition to make to you, although it may seem somewhat in the nature of a riddle to you both atthe present moment. "

"What is it?" asked the children in a breath. 

"Suppose, " said the Lion--"I only say suppose--both of you ever had achance of eating me, of--ahem! in short, devouring your old friend Lal, would you do it?" asked the Lion, with an odd tremble in his voice. 

The question seemed to be so odd, not to mention out of place, thatboth the children laughed. 

"Why, Lal, " chuckled Ridgwell, "how ridiculous you are. How couldChristine or myself ever possibly eat even a little bit of you?"

"No, " answered the Lion, "I believe you are both little Christianchildren, and yet, " he added with a sigh, "you might both becomePagans. "

"What's a Pagan?" asked Ridgwell. 

Again the Lion sighed. "My child, " he said, "you have a very greatdeal to learn, and among the many things at present hidden from you isthe fact that both you and Christine will see me once again and onceonly. "

"Where?" asked the children. 

"At your home in Balham. "

"Good gracious, " said Ridgwell, "will you knock at the hall door?"

"No, " said the Pleasant-Faced Lion. 

"Or appear sitting in the raspberry bushes in the garden?" venturedChristine. "If so, you will spoil them, you know!"

"No, " said the Lion, "certainly not. "

"Then how will you come?" asked Ridgwell. 

"You will see me again once more, " asserted the Lion, "in three daysfrom now, and moreover inside your own home. "

"Three days from now is Ridge's birthday, " ventured Christine; "ofcourse, it would be very nice to see you, but I do wonder how you willcome, and I do wonder how we shall be able to explain you away. "

The Pleasant-Faced Lion laughed his gruffest laugh. 

"I don't think you could very well _explain_ me away, little Christine. "

"Suppose you sat on the hearth-rug and people seemed a little distantor awkward?" commenced Ridgwell. 

"Yes, " broke in Christine, "or some of those dreadful long pausesoccurred when nobody speaks and every one looks at every one else andfeels uncomfortable--would you _say_ something?"

"Yes, " said the Lion. "I have plenty of tact, but really there won'tbe any need, " and the Pleasant-Faced Lion again chuckled softly tohimself. 

"There is only one thing I want you to do, " said the Pleasant-FacedLion, and he still seemed to be choked with merriment as if a suddenidea had occurred to him. 

"What is it, Lal?" inquired both the children. 

"Upon Ridgwell's birthday night, before you both go to bed, I want you, Ridgwell, to remember a little rhyme and say it to yourself. "

"A hymn?" asked Ridgwell. 

"Not exactly a hymn. "

"After we have said our prayers?"

"Certainly, " replied the Lion obligingly, "any time before you go tobed will do; will you promise to remember?"

"Of course, Lal. "

"Well, this is the little rhyme, " whispered the Lion mysteriously; andsomehow it seemed to Ridgwell as if the Lion was still laughing at himas he repeated the following extraordinary rhyme--

 "Christian child or Pagan child, Which is my denomination, Have I eaten dear old Lal In my birthday celebration?"

Ridgwell repeated the mysterious rhyme after the Lion, then he shookhis head. 

"Don't understand it, do you?" grinned the Lion. 

"Not a bit, " answered Ridgwell. 

"I give it up, too, " said Christine. 

"Are you laughing at us, Lal?" inquired Ridgwell anxiously. 

"Ah!" said the Lion, "I wonder; however, he who laughs last, laughslast; that saying is true without a doubt; and, " he concluded with achuckle, "I bet you both anything you like that I have the last laugh. In fact, one day when you pass me you may hear me laugh, although Ishall never speak to either of you again in public. And that remindsme of something I want to warn both of you about particularly. Neverappear to notice me in public or speak to me whenever you chance topass me in Trafalgar Square; you would only collect a crowd, make mevery uncomfortable, and convey the unfortunate impression to everybodywithin earshot that you were mad. The same thing applies toCarry-on-Merry; he has a most provoking face, and the happy laughalways to be seen upon it might tempt you both to suppose that he waslistening; now mind you never give way to the temptation of addressingeither of us in public, and never refer to anything that has happenedeven in private, for you will only be misunderstood. Remember, "concluded the Lion, "that the Great Order of Imagination is only givento a very few people; those who do not possess it do not understand it. See, your own has faded already!"

Both the children clasped their hands simultaneously to their neckswhere the glittering order had hung and shone only a few minutes before. 

Then they stared blankly at the place where it had been. Alas! theluminously lighted jewels of the order were no longer there. 

"Oh, Lal, " said Ridgwell, "shall we never have it again?"

"Only the memory of it, " replied the Lion gently; "that never fades. "

"Only the memory, " echoed Ridgwell thoughtfully. 

"Nobody can ever take that away from you, " said the Lion. 

"Did any other little boy ever have the Great Order of Imagination, Lal?"

"Yes, " said the Lion, "there was _one_ who had the highest and greatestorder of all, the Pure Soul of Imagination itself. " The Lion pausedand seemed to be thinking. 

"Where is he now?" whispered Ridgwell, for unconsciously he seemed tohave lowered his voice. 

The Lion lifted his great and noble head, and looked upwards towardsthe silver stars above them. The Lion shook his head doubtfully, andthe children noticed that there was something very like a tear in hiseyes. 

"I don't know which particular star, " said the Lion, "but somewherethere, I think; but then, you see, I'm only a Pagan. "

The Lion stopped and purred; they were outside the familiar windows oftheir own home. 

"Oh, Lal, " whispered the children, "how shall we remember all we'veseen to-night; how shall we be able to think about it and go through itall again, if the Order of Imagination has been taken away from us andif we are never to speak to you again, and only to see you once more?Even then you cannot tell us _how_ we are going to see you. "

The Lion smiled. "I can arrange that easily. Be of good heart, littleRidgwell and Christine. I know a writer--he comes and talks to me atnight sometimes, though I never answer him--and I will suggest hewrites it all down for you. I can ask him things without saying aword. "

"Will you?" pleaded the children. "Oh, please ask him, Lal!"

"Yes, " said the Lion, "I will; good-night. "

CHAPTER IV

PREPARING FOR A VISITOR

Upon the third day after bidding good-bye to their strange friend, thechildren felt they had every reason to be excited as to what events theday would bring forth, to say nothing of endless speculations as to themanner in which their most uncommon visitor might choose to appear tothem. 

Consequently after Ridgwell had opened his birthday presents the firstthing in the morning, he held a sort of council of war with Christine. 

"You see, Chris, fortunately the house hasn't any underneath part, "explained Ridgwell, "so that we can keep watch, both of us, all on onefloor so to speak. You take guard of the French windows in thedrawing-room where you can see the greater part of the garden, and Iwill watch the windows of the dining-room, where I can see the roadboth ways up to the house. "

"Shan't we get tired of always looking at the same spot?" objectedChristine. 

"I have thought of a plan for that, Chris. When either of us want achange, just shout out, 'Sister Ann, sister Ann, do you see anybodycoming?'"

"I see, " nodded Christine, "everybody will only think we are playing agame. "

"Then, " pursued Ridgwell, full of inspiration, "if Lal isn't looming insight anywhere, the other will shout out, 'Not a sail in the offing, 'then we change over rooms. "

"Anyway Lal couldn't sail, could he?" queried Christine. 

"You don't know how he might come, " whispered Ridgwell. "He might evencome in a motor car, and anyway it's only so that other people shan'tunderstand. "

"It seems to me, " remarked Christine logically, "that people won'tunderstand him anyway, and less when they see him than when they don't. "

"It's an anxious time, isn't it, Chris?"

"Very, " assented Christine, "and anyhow we shall have to drop Cookie ahint, because you see her window in the kitchen looks over a part ofthe garden that we can't see from the drawing-room. "

"Of course, " mused Ridgwell, "the weak spot about Cookie is that shegets shocks so quickly. "

"She's sure to get one to-day, " commenced Christine hopefully, "whenLal comes. "

"Very well then, we'll give her a sort of hint, " suggested Ridgwell. 

Now Cookie, beloved of the children, to say nothing of the householdgenerally, was a fat person, with very red cheeks, and verygood-humoured rolling green eyes that somehow always looked as if theyhad been originally intended for gooseberries, which had boiled andbubbled during her many cooking operations and had never been permittedto simmer. 

"What do you children want in the kitchen?" commenced Cookie. "MasterRidgie, you know quite well that your birthday cake ain't to be readytill tea-time. "

"But, Cookie dear, " commenced Ridgwell insinuatingly. 

Cookie dear continued the mystic rights over which she presided as highpriestess, her vermilion red hands and arms continued to splash aboutin a very big basin, where she contrived to throw up little waves ofvery white flour as if she were about to take a morning dip in it, yethesitated before taking the plunge. These mysterious rites having beenaccomplished and the flour having as it were received a final blessingfrom Cookie's hands, Cookie commenced to beat up eggs. 

"I know you've come wheedling for something, " objected Cookie, "and youain't going to 'ave it, Master Ridgie. Why, you've only just finishedyour breakfast. "

"I don't want anything to eat, " announced Ridgwell. 

Cookie eyes boiled and rolled ominously, whilst a sort of faint concernappeared upon the surface of them. "If you can't eat, Master Ridgie, then you must be ill and want some medicine. "

"No, no, " hastily interposed Ridgwell, "I don't want any medicine, weonly came in to ask you a question. "

"Well, you can't ask me any of your questions now, I'm busy, " assertedCookie. "Ain't got no time. "

"Oh, Cookie dear, you can listen whilst you beat up an egg, "expostulated Ridgwell. 

"_Egg!_" shouted Cookie indignantly, "three blessed eggs for your cake, and 2 1/2d. Each, new laid too, and I only bought a dozen of 'em. "

"Yes, yes, Cookie dear. I meant three eggs, the number doesn't matter, and it won't take a minute for us to tell you. It's just this. Suppose a great big beautiful Lion came and sat in the middle of theraspberry canes just outside your kitchen door, what would you do?"

"Is this a conundrum?" demanded Cookie. "If so, I don't know no answerto it, Master Ridgie. "

"It isn't a riddle, Cookie, at all. If a Lion really came to see you, what would you do?"

"I should fetch a policeman at once, " announced Cookie. 

Ridgwell smiled. "A policeman wouldn't be any good, Cookie! Really, you know, he couldn't do anything. "

"Then I should fetch two policemen, " said Cookie, shortly andconclusively. Cookie, at this point in the argument, beat the threenew-laids at such a furious rate, that the foam of them whirled roundand round very much like the agitated thoughts of Cookie herself atbeing confronted with such an outrageous problem the first thing in themorning. 

"'Owever, " amended Cookie, "afore I went to fetch them policemen, I'dthrow all the boiling green water over him, from the window first, andsee if that wouldn't shift 'im. "

Both Ridgwell and Christine laughed outright, the idea was tooridiculous. To think of their friendly and Pleasant-Faced Lal comingto make a society call and having boiling cabbage water thrown over hisstately head, was altogether too much for their gravity. 

"How indignant he would be, " laughed Ridgwell. "Oh! Chris only thinkhow hurt he would feel as he shook the stuff off his mane and whiskers!"

This imaginary picture, however, seemed to be too much for Christine, so she determined to speak seriously to Cookie. 

"Cookie, " said Christine in her most earnest manner, "a lion may arriveoutside this door (pointing to the article in question in a mostimpressive fashion) at any moment to-day. "

"Yes, " added Ridgwell, "and we only want you to be prepared. "

Cookie's eyes seemed to boil a little faster for a moment, appeared toswell in fact and be altogether overdone, as she fixed her orbs uponthe door in question, then up went Cookie's apron over her head, andalas! down went the three new-laid at 2 1/2d. Each, all spilled uponthe floor, and the cup broken as well. 

At this moment the children instinctively realised that discretion wassometimes the better part of valour, and made speedy preparations tovacate in favour of other quarters of the house, not, however, beforethey could hear Cookie moaning beneath her apron:

"Escaped I s'pose, oh! mighty 'Eavens! escaped from the CrystalPalace, or the Zoo, or a circus or somethink, oh, it ain't safe livingin England! Blowed if I don't bolt the kitchen door, and nobody warnedme or told me it was in the morning papers. Thank goodness I've takenin the milk, and them three eggs all spoiled. Only nine left now, "moaned Cookie, "and cutlets and pancakes for lunch too. "

"Come, Chris, " whispered Ridgwell. "You see we can't expect muchsupport from Cookie. "

"No, " agreed Christine, as they departed for the dining-room. "Howabout Mother? Let's hear what she says. "

"Yes, " assented Ridgwell. "You see Mother is very nice and kind alwaysto anybody who calls, and perhaps if she spoke to Lal and welcomed hima bit when he comes, he might feel at home at once. "

"I can't think where we are going to ask him to sit, can you, Ridgie?You see, " explained Christine, "it's so inhospitable to leave him inthe hall, and if he walks into the drawing-room and swishes his taileven contentedly, all the china would go over at once. "

"No, Chris, Lal is much too well mannered to do anything like that, butI'm afraid the only place for him will be the hearth-rug in front ofthe fire. Stop a minute, Chris, I've got it. Of course, the sofa inthe drawing-room. Nobody must sit on the sofa at all to-day, then itwill be all ready for him when he comes, and we shall only have to tuckhim in a bit at the sides if he's too big. "

Matters were not much better understood in the drawing-room, for a ladyvisitor had just called and was waiting for Mother to come down. Mrs. Tallcat was a lady who always deemed it her duty to call once a weekupon everybody, whether people wished to see her or whether they didnot wish to see her. 

Had a census of opinion been taken concerning Mrs. Tallcat's calls, Mrs. Tallcat would have found, much to her astonishment no doubt, thatshe possessed very few votes, and no votes at all from children. 

"Would you very much mind if you didn't sit upon the sofa?" commencedRidgwell gently. 

Mrs. Tallcat, always inclined towards huffiness at a moment's notice, consequently selected a chair. 

"Is the sofa likely to give way?" inquired Mrs. Tallcat suspiciously. 

"No, " explained Christine, "it is because it is so strong and firm onits legs that we have chosen it. "

"I never allow _my_ boy to play upon the sofa, " sniffed Mrs. Tallcat, as if she were referring to a piano. 

"It isn't to play upon, " remarked Ridgwell, "but we are expecting avery, very solid visitor. "

Mrs. Tallcat sniffed for the second time. "I never allow my boy tomake any remarks whatever upon visitors who call, " responded Mrs. Tallcat icily. 

"Oh, Lal doesn't mind, " said Christine cheerfully. 

"Who is Lal?" inquired Mrs. Tallcat, "a gentleman friend of yourfather's?"

"No, " said Ridgwell, "Lal is a lion, and Father doesn't know him yet. "

"Tut, tut, tut, " snapped Mrs. Tallcat crossly. "Directly _my_ boybegins to talk nonsense I send him straight to bed. "

"It's bad for the health to go to bed at the wrong time, " suggestedRidgwell pensively. 

"My boy always does as he's told, " announced Mrs. Tallcat triumphantly;"if he doesn't, he is whipped. "

At this point a new idea suddenly struck Ridgwell. "Chris, " hewhispered audibly, "we must somehow get the old cat out of the way. "

Mrs. Tallcat instantly bridled, and her face became inflamed withanger. "How _dare_ you!" commenced the indignant lady. 

"I mean the _other_ cat, " explained Ridgwell, "our own cat. "

The explanation, although convincing, was perhaps ambiguous. It wasundoubtedly fortunate that Mother timed her appearance at this point toa nicety, and so prevented any further complications. 

"Dreadful time her boy must have, don't you think, eh, Chris?" askedRidgwell. 

Christine nodded. 

"Only fancy, Chris, " pursued Ridgwell, "calling her little boy Tom. Tom Tallcat; why, he'll be chaffed no end at school. I do feel sorryfor him; and then the way she dresses him, coloured velvet and abrigand's hat with a feather in it, just as if he was part of a circus. I'm glad Mother doesn't dress me like that. The other day I met himand he'd got a bow and arrow. She'd actually sent him into the streetwith a bow and arrow. I said 'Hullo, Robin Hood, ' not meaninganything, and he began to cry; it was awkward, and I'm sure he feelsit. Father said that the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Childrenought to interfere, but I think that was perhaps only one of Father'sjokes. "

"I think, " suggested Mother, who had caught audible fragments of thisconversation, "I think you children had better run away now and play. "

The morning appeared to go quite quickly up to the cutlets and thepancake stage. 

The late afternoon shadows threw their creeping patterns over bothlawns, and still there was no sign whatever of their eccentric friendLal. 

Tea-time came and passed, and then the shadows grew deeper, first blue, then violet, then black, the trees and shrubs could scarcely bedistinguished at all; and, as ill luck would have it, there was no moon. 

At length the time arrived when the family not unreasonably suggestedthat the blinds of the house should be pulled down. Here was adilemma. How was it possible to warn the household of thePleasant-Faced Lion's approach if the blinds were pulled down? WhenRidgwell found, in spite of much lingering, that the last crumb of cakehad been consumed, to say nothing of the last currant which he had madelast quite a long time, and that the third summons to go to bed musthave some sort of notice taken of it, he resigned himself to theinevitable, and with a hopeless look at Christine, prepared to talk toFather. 

Father was reading quite quietly, and apparently deeply engrossed in abook, and somehow that didn't help matters. 

"Please, Father, would you mind very much if the hall door and the backdoor were both left wide open all night?"

Father considered this somewhat odd request for a space, then inquiredwith a stray gleam of amusement in his eyes, "Do you consider the housestuffy? Or have you suddenly adopted one of the Futurist ideasconcerning Health?"

"No, it isn't that, but Chris and I expect somebody; no, I mean_something_, and we should be so disappointed if it, no, I mean _he_didn't come. "

"Rather a late visitor, " said Father, "and rather an inconsiderate oneif this quite Eastern welcome of him includes us all catching our deathof cold. No, Ridgie, I'm afraid he will have to knock. "

"But, Father, I'm not sure he can knock. "

"Then ring, " suggested their parent, "nice new electric bell I've justhad fixed up. He's only got to push the button. "

"Perhaps he doesn't understand about electric bells, " objected Ridgwell. 

"Your friend seems a trifle old-fashioned, " observed Father, good-naturedly. 

"And then, " said Ridgwell, "his paw is so big he might never find thebell-push. "

"I see; a dog, eh?"

"No, bigger than a dog, much. "

"Well, then, say a donkey. "

"No, Father, bigger than a dog, and not so big as a donkey. "

"I give it up, " said Father, "but I promise whatever he is he shall beattended to and entertained if possible. "

"I cannot think what you will say to him, " debated Ridgwell anxiously. 

"I will do my best, Ridgwell; but from your description I shouldimagine the conversation will be a little one-sided. However, "remarked Father drily, "perhaps he can be persuaded to smoke, or drink. "

"No, Father, he never smokes, and he only drinks water. "

"Ah! very abstemious, " murmured Father; "perhaps he is a vegetarian aswell, sounds like it, and they are always the most difficult people toentertain. "

At this moment the conversation was interrupted by a loud knocking atthe front door, and immediately the new electric bell soundedthroughout the house. Ridgwell and Christine nearly tumbled over oneanother in order to get to the hall door first. 

"It's Lal after all, " shouted Ridgwell. 

"Sure to be, " chimed in Christine. 

At length in the struggle the hall door was opened, but it wasn't theform of the Pleasant-Faced Lion who greeted them, only Mr. Jollyface, afriend of Father's and a happy, jolly old bachelor, who loved both ofthe children. 

"Anybody with you?" inquired Ridgwell anxiously, as he peered eitherside of Mr. Jollyface's portly form. 

"No, only me, " chuckled Mr. Jollyface. "Whom are you expecting? Gladto find you children up; I've got something for you in my pocket, Master Ridgie; your birthday, isn't it?"

"Yes, " confessed Ridgwell, but it could be plainly seen that his formerenthusiasm had died a sudden death. "But do tell me, Mr. Jollyface, did you see anything as you came along?"

"Lots of things, " replied Mr. Jollyface, cheerily. 

"A lion?" whispered Ridgwell mysteriously. 

"No, " debated Mr. Jollyface, "no, I think I may say that a lion was theonly thing I didn't see. "

"Oh, Mr. Jollyface, are you sure?"

"Yes, " replied Mr. Jollyface gravely, "I can really be quite certainupon that point. "

"If you had seen a great lion, Mr. Jollyface, what would you have done?"

"I think, " debated Mr. Jollyface, as he prepared to disencumber himselfof his great-coat, "I think I should have wished him good-evening andpassed politely, like the--ahem--Levite, on the opposite side of theway. "

"Oh, Mr. Jollyface, " sighed Ridgwell, "if you only knew we have waitedall day long for a lion. "

"Now, that's very funny, " whispered Mr. Jollyface, "for I have actuallybrought one for you in my pocket, I have really. Here it is, "announced the imperturbable Mr. Jollyface, as he produced a parcel fromhis pocket and thrust it into Ridgwell's hand. 

"No, no, not that sort of lion, " remonstrated Ridgwell. 

"Well, perhaps this one would do, " suggested Mr. Jollyface. "It's thebest sort of lion, you know, really, and made of the very finestchocolate, too. "

Here a well-known voice was heard to remark: "If I have to speak to youchildren once more about going to bed there will be trouble. "

"Scamper off, " exclaimed the good-natured Mr. Jollyface; then he added, "you know you can eat chocolate in bed quite as well as you cananywhere else. I used to enjoy it as a boy more than I should havedone upon a plate in the dining-room. Off you go; good-night, kids. "

Thereupon Father claimed Mr. Jollyface, and as the children slowlymounted the stairs they could hear him saying: "So it was you thechildren were waiting for, and the animal friend they expected was achocolate lion, eh?"

"Very likely, " agreed Mr. Jollyface. "Ha! ha! ha! so they have beenpuzzling you, my old friend, eh?"

"Well, children's riddles are very difficult to guess, " said Father, "and yet they are always so simple. "

"Chris, " observed Ridgwell dejectedly, as they reached their room andturned the handle of the door, "they none of them understand; isn't itdreadful? and they are grown up, too, and really ought to know. "

"We've waited and waited, Ridgie, and there's nothing else to be done;Lal won't come now, and he's never broken his word before, has he?"

"He might come, Chris; let's roll up the blind. "

"No, the garden looks the same as it always does; there isn't a thingin sight. Suppose we don't go to sleep just yet and keep awake a bit;Lal might come and throw a stone at the window. "

"Let's eat the chocolate, " suggested Chris, who was occasionallypractical, "while we wait. "

Ridgwell untied the small parcel, a wooden box, about half the size ofone of Father's cigar-boxes, and appeared to be made of the same kindof brown wood. 

Disclosed to view at length, the birthday present was seen to be afairly large chocolate lion lying upon a pedestal. The entiresweet-meat model was covered in thick golden paper; this was quicklystripped off, and Ridgwell did the honours as possessor. 

"I'll eat his head half, Chris, and give you the other half; I thinkthat's a fair division. "

"Right, " agreed Christine; "we can't eat more than that to-night, andthe pedestal part will do for the morning. "

"I can't understand Lal disappointing us to-night as he has done, " saidRidgwell, as he slowly munched his chocolate. "Can you, Chris?"

"No--isn't this chocolate good, Ridgie?"

"Yes, but fancy having to be contented with a chocolate lion when weknow a real one! On my birthday too, and yet he promised faithfully weshould see him again. "

"He has forgotten us, " confessed the children as they went to bed. 

"Suppose he has too much to think of, " said Ridgie; "he can't remembereverything. "

Christine never knew quite how long she had been asleep that night, before she distinctly heard muffled mutterings from her brotherRidgie's bed the other side of their little room. Surely Ridgiecouldn't be saying his prayers at this time of night; then Christinewas certain she heard half-smothered sobs. 

"Ridgie, what's the matter; are you crying?" demanded Christine. Thesobs became very audible now, and even an apparent effort to stiflethem with the bed-clothes did not seem in any way to lessen them. 

Christine pressed the button of the electric light, and in the suddenillumination regarded her brother across the room. 

"Ridgie, why are you crying? are you in pain? have you eaten too much?"

"No, " sobbed Ridgie, "no, but oh! Chrissie, I've--I've--we've eatenLal. "

Christine sat up in bed. 

"Ridgie, " demanded Christine, "are you dreaming?"

"No, " whispered Ridgie, between his sobs; "don't you remember--

 Christian child or Pagan child Which is my denomination? Have I eaten dear old Lal In my birthday celebration?

Here, overcome by recollections, Ridgwell broke down completely. "I_have_ eaten him, " moaned Ridgwell; "at least, _we've_ eaten him, foryou helped. He said we should eat him, and we've done it. That's howLal meant to come to us; now, I remember, it was exactly like him. Just as--as he is in Trafalgar Square on his pedestal. Oh, Chris, after all the Christians have eaten a lion; he said we should; wearen't Christians any longer, we're Pagans, and--and, " confessedRidgwell with a final outburst, "I feel like a cannibal; it's beastly. "

Christine had become quite pale during this recital; but she thoughtfor awhile before replying. 

"Perhaps, Ridgie, Lal meant us to eat him--I mean his likeness inchocolate--all the time, and most likely he isn't angry with us at all. He might have arranged it all as a joke. "

"It isn't a joke at all, " sniffed Ridgwell, "it's horrible. We haveeaten one of our very best friends. Oh! if only the Order of GreatImagination hadn't been taken away from us!"

"I am not so sure, Ridgie, " observed Christine, with feminineintuition, "that you have lost _all_ your order of imagination; I thinkyou have still a lot left, or you would never have discovered Lal'sriddle. "

It was Ridgwell's turn now to sit up in bed, and he asked eagerly--

"Do you really think it was only a riddle, Chris, and Lal meant only tohave a joke with us?"

Christine nodded gravely. 

"I feel very comforted with that, " said Ridgwell, "so turn off thelight, Chris, and we'll go to sleep again; but oh, won't I just tellLal next time I pass him in Trafalgar Square!"

Some few moments afterwards in the darkness Christine answered--

"You hadn't better make any remarks to Lal in public; you know hecautioned us about attracting a crowd. "

"Crowd or no crowd, I mean to tell him what I think of him, " assertedRidgwell before he turned over and went to sleep. 

 * * * * *

The clock in the hall was just chiming twelve, and Mr. Jollyface wastaking his departure. 

Father and Mother were wishing him good-night and thanking him forbringing the chocolate lion for Ridgwell. 

"It is really quite remarkable how I came to buy it, " agreed Mr. Jollyface; "but I was passing through Trafalgar Square when Iremembered that I hadn't bought Ridgie a present, and the sight of thecorner lion, as I crossed the Square, made me remember a sweetstuffmodel of him I had seen in a chocolate shop in the Strand, so I wentand bought it. But really the most wonderful thing about it is thealmost uncanny intelligence of your children. Bless my soul! theycouldn't have known I had bought it; and yet, would you believe it, they actually expected a lion, and asked me if I had brought one withme. "

"Yes, " agreed Father, "it's very wonderful; they were trying todescribe a lion before you came in. I think at times children musthave second sight, and that is why I am afraid we sometimes do notunderstand them. Good-night, Jollyface; come and see us again soon. "

BOOK II

WHAT THE WRITER AND THE LORD MAYOR DECLARED

CHAPTER V

THE WRITER APPEARS UPON THE SCENE

There had been a certain amount of excitement when Father and Motherhad started for their holidays abroad, but nothing in any way to becompared to the excitement of the day when the Writer made his firstappearance. 

Ridgwell and Christine distinctly heard themselves being asked for by avisitor, one day when the sitting-room door was open, and to beinquired for personally was at least something of an event. "I want tosee the children, " a voice had said, and there was no mistaking thesignificance of the words. Without any undue delay, Ridgwell andChristine immediately presented themselves. 

The stranger was led in captive, one upon either side of him, and beingplaced upon the sofa was regarded steadfastly for some little while. During a very thorough scrutiny the prisoner smiled affably, produced apipe which he lighted carefully and puffed at steadily, and theninquired casually if they both thought he would do. 

"You look jolly, " announced Ridgwell, "only I can't make out who youare; but you know Father and Mother very well, don't you?"

"Rather, " said the stranger, "great friends of mine. "

"But we've never seen you, have we?" added Christine. 

"No, " replied the stranger, "but I thought it was quite time I madeyour acquaintance, so I thought I would call upon you. Sorry I haven'tgot a card, but you can supply something in its place which will bequite as good. Where does Father keep his books?" was the sudden andsomewhat unexpected question. 

"It just depends, " debated Ridgwell, "what particular lot you want. Biography, Philosophy, Romance or Poetry. "

"I think the Romance and Poetry department, " suggested the stranger. 

"This way, " said Ridgwell; "I will show you. "

The stranger ran his finger over the well-stocked orderly shelves, thenhe paused at four volumes side by side about the middle of the secondshelf. 

"Of course you both read?" inquired the stranger. 

"Not those sort of books, " explained Ridgwell. "We haven't quite gotup to those sort of books yet. "

"Anyway you can read the author's name upon the back of each of them. "

The children nodded. 

"That's me, " confessed the stranger. "I have the misfortune to writebooks that you don't read. "

"Father does, " Ridgwell hastened to explain; "I've often heard him talkabout you. Why, you're quite famous, aren't you?"

"I hope not, " said the Writer. 

"Anyway, " concluded Ridgwell, "Father said you wrote jolly good stuff, only it was over the heads of the people, but Father said one of thesedays when you woke up, you would knock 'em, and I've heard him say thatanyway it was better than some of the drivel a lot of people wrotenowadays. He hoped you'd reform, though. "

The Writer laughed. "A very candid opinion, Master Ridgwell, and Ireally must reform and mend my ways. "

"Don't you write fairy tales as well?" inquired Christine upon the wayback to the dining-room. 

"Sometimes, " agreed the Writer. 

Without more ado, Christine drew three chairs invitingly round thefire, almost by way of an invitation to recount some upon the spot. 

The fire was really very cheerful in spite of the fact that it was latespring. The daffodils nodded their yellow heads quite contentedly, andfilled the bowls upon mantelshelf and table with colour, and the littleroom with fragrance, at one and the same time. The coloured crocusespeeped in from the window boxes outside, whilst the sparrows chirpedand hopped about and hoped that the Writer had something pleasant tosay about them. It was all very peaceful with the sunlight stealinginto the room through the lattice panes, making little patterns uponthe floor, the flickering red of the fire playing at hide and seek withthe diamond patterns and never quite catching each other; the yellowflowers nodding drowsily over the two childish heads that were nowregarding the Writer most earnestly. The clock upon the mantelpiecechimed its mellow notes. Three o'clock it said. The afternoon hadseemed almost dull up to that time, but now it all appeared to havechanged in some curious way, ever since the Writer had made hisappearance. 

"I wonder, " commenced Ridgwell, "if by any chance you could have beensent to us; you know we were faithfully promised that a Writer shouldcome and see us and write down for us something we particularly want toremember. I wonder if you are the man, " ended Ridgwell, quizzically. 

"Shouldn't wonder at all, " murmured the Writer; "delighted if I havehad the honour to be chosen for the mission, and it really sounds to melike one of Lal's very rash promises. "

"What!!!" It was a shriek from two children at once. Two pairs ofarms were suddenly flung around the Writer's neck, two pairs of armsthat were almost hugging him to death. 

The Writer endured this onslaught throughout in the most becomingmanner. 

"Lal _did_ send you then, " shouted Ridgwell. "I knew it. How lovely!Fancy your knowing him! Tell us all about it. "

The Writer smiled. "I have known Lal almost as many years as I canremember; he is one of my oldest and very dearest friends. "

"Ridgie, " said Christine solemnly, at this point, "do you remember themotto of the cracker we pulled last night? It said--

 "I'll whisper on this little page A secret unto you: The greatest wonder of the age Shall suddenly come true. "

But Ridgwell was beyond crackers, and beyond poetry; he felt, notunreasonably, amidst the development of this new wonder, that he was inpossession of the real thing. 

"I think, " said the Writer, "I had better tell you all about it fromthe very beginning, but you know really it is quite a long story. "

Ridgwell and Christine arranged themselves comfortably to listen;sometimes they looked at the fire, but more often at the face of theWriter, but they never missed one word of his story. 

"I expect, " commenced the Writer, "my story is going to be verydifferent from anything you children may have imagined; in fact, mylife has turned out so utterly different from anything it promised tobe in the early beginning, that at times upon looking back it seems tobe like some wonderful fairy tale--utterly unlike the ordinary fairytales, however, one reads in books. 

"The only two good fairies in my case were first and foremost our goodold friend Lal, and, secondly, a gentleman who in the early stages ofmy life was always called the Miser, but who since has become one ofthe wealthiest, most generous and notable personages in the City ofLondon. As a rule, whenever I think of my early childhood it is with ashudder, for I was running about the streets of London minus any shoesor stockings, with hardly any food save of the smallest and coarsestdescription, selling newspapers in the streets until late at night, andinvariably soundly beaten if I did not take back some miserable coppersat the end of the day. 

"I may say that these pence I had procured with so much toil werealways expended in the public-house by both the man and his wife whowere supposed at that time to provide me with the weird accommodationthey were pleased to call home. My particular portion of this edificewas a dirty mat by way of a bed, which I shared with a rough-hairedterrier dog called Sam. We two, Sam and I, were roofed in with manypanes of broken glass in a species of outhouse which may at one timehave formed a small conservatory. It must have been a hopelessfailure, I am sure, as a conservatory, for I cannot imagine anythinggrowing in it at all. 

"One thing I am very certain of, I should never have grown either, butshould most likely have withered and died in it had I remained, like mypossible predecessors the plants, a few blackened and withered sticksof which could still be seen in some broken red flower-pots upon ashelf out of my reach. How these people came to have charge of me Ishall never know, but I have sometimes believed, from odds and ends ofconversation they let drop when they were quarrelling, which they werealways doing, that my real father and mother had died when I was a tinymite. 

"The woman, who seemed at one time to have been better off, was left asum of money to bring me up, as no relations appeared to claim me. Atthis time the woman was single, and had not met the man she afterwardsmarried, the man who used to beat me so cruelly. Whether she spent allthe money left for me, or whether they both spent it, appears to be oflittle consequence; anyway, once it was gone I was regarded with blacklooks as an encumbrance, and turned out into the streets to make somemoney, or do something for my board and lodging, as they expressed it. I have already told you what the lodging was like. Well, the boardpart of it corresponded to the rest of the picture in every way. Crusts of old dry bread, which they couldn't eat themselves, did for meand the dog, sometimes a little milk, varied by an occasional awfulform of hard cake which the woman cooked, and which was impossible toeat unless first soaked in something. In the long hours of waitingbetween selling the newspapers I learned to spell, and then to read, very slowly at first, but still I learned. Then one of the menemployed at the newspaper office I collected papers from, although Ishould imagine a very poor man himself, found a few pence every week tohave me taught to write and spell, together with arithmetic, grammar, history and other things. This rather uncertain method of educationwent on for about two years. I was getting on fine, and absorbingeverything I was taught with great rapidity, when my one friend, whohad provided the night school education, departed to another worldwhere I always hope he found the conditions easier than the one he hadleft. I might have been at my miserable home in the slums with the manand woman for years after this, only a curious form of providence wasworking upon my behalf. 

"It had been a bad night for selling papers, I had a few coppers only, and my heart sank down when I approached the hovel where we all lived. The man and woman were quarrelling violently. As I slunk in white offace and with a terrible quaking feeling inside me, I saw at once theman was worse than he had ever been, and as I entered the door of thesqualid room he struck the woman an awful blow, then he saw me. Hegrabbed me, and I think might have killed me that night, but I wrenchedmyself away after he had given me the first blows; he pursued me, catching at my coat, which at the best of times was only rags; he torepart of the coat away, which was left in his hand, and I ran for dearlife. The man was mad and didn't know what he was doing, maybe, butthe only thing he could lay his hands upon was a broken brandy bottle;he hurled this at my head. It struck me as I reached the street andcut the back of my head open. Although I was hurt I staggered on. Iwas dizzy and sick and the blood was dripping all over my shirt, butthough I swayed about I never stopped, I would go anywhere away fromthe horror of that place. I never meant to go back there again. 

"The next thing I remember was some sort of Square, which I had neverseen until then, for I had never gone so far West in London before. There was nobody about, and I sank down beside a sort of stone thingand held my head, which hurt me horribly, and began to cry, I think. 

"I was only about ten or eleven years old at that time, if as much, forno record of my age had ever been kept. Whether it was the pain, orsimply fright because the few clothes I had were covered in blood fromthe wound in my head where the bottle had cut me, I don't know, butthere is no doubt that I lost consciousness, probably for someconsiderable time. When I came to myself and woke up, it must havebeen very late at night. It was a fairly cold night, but the moon wasshining, and the Square where I was sitting all looked like polishedsilver, and the clock of a big church at the side of the Square boomedout one. 

"I looked about me, and raised myself up painfully upon one elbow andtried to think. 

"Here I was outside everything--no shelter, no home, alone in Londonwith a vengeance. True the other place had been a hateful home, yet atthe very worst it had been a shelter, and, moreover, the rough-haireddog Sam and I had somehow squeezed together to keep ourselves warm, andSam was the only thing that was in any way fond of me, and Sam wasreally good company. 

"As the thought of him came across my mind, and how I had lost him forgood now, I think I was about to start crying again, when a rathergruff but quite kindly voice just over my head called out--

"'Now then, stop that. '

"Of course I was only a very common Cockney little street boy at thattime, and I couldn't either speak the Queen's English properly or spellit correctly, so when the voice said 'Stop that, ' I said 'Wot?' 'Goingto cry, ' said the voice. "

Here Ridgwell was so overcome with excitement by reason of a strangecoincidence that he interrupted. "Why, that is exactly what Lal firstsaid to me, and I can guess what the next thing was that he said toyou--wasn't it 'Here, jump up'?"

The Writer smiled. "Yes, " he said, "it is really very wonderful howhistory repeats itself. That is exactly what he said, but what I saidis perhaps even more singular. 

"I raised myself slowly and looked up gradually, for my head stillached and throbbed horribly, and when I saw it was a big bronze lionthat was speaking to me and looking quite pleasant, all I said was--

"'Lor lummy, if it ain't a bloomin' lion a-talking to me. 'Alf ajiffey, cocky, ' I said, 'an' I'll 'ave a climb up atween them paws ofyours. '

"'You mustn't call me cocky, ' remarked the Lion, reprovingly, when Ihad once landed up safe and sound; 'you must call me Lal. '

"'Right oh!' ses I. 'Can I sleep 'ere safe without a bloomin' coppera-coming and diggin' of me art 'alf-way through my nap?'

"'Yes, of course, ' said Lal. 'Sleep here comfortably, and coveryourself over with the policemen's capes. You'll find three of thembeside you. Hitherto they have always annoyed me by placing themthere, but upon this occasion I am really grateful to them, as theywill be useful for you to keep yourself warm with. '

"'I fits in 'ere fine, ' ses I, 'and so 'elp me I think ye're a stunner. But I never knowed as lions talked afore. '

"'My good little boy, there are many things that you do not know, 'answered the Lion, 'one of them being that you do not know how to speakEnglish correctly. I am afraid you are quite ignorant. '

"''Ere, 'old on, Mister, ' ses I, 'I've been to school, yer know. '

"'The wrong schools, I fear, ' replied the Lion; 'and would you obligeme by not calling me Mister; in future always call me Lal. '

"'Do them other three lions talk, Lal?' I asked. 

"'No, I am the only one that talks. '

"'Then I should say as 'ow you're the best of the 'ole bunch, ' Iremarked. 

"Lal sighed deeply. 'How dreadfully wrong, ' he said; 'imagine a bunchof lions! No, you certainly cannot speak at all correctly, so I thinkperhaps you had better go to sleep instead. '

"Well, before I went to sleep I remembered at the night school I hadgone to they always said people ought to say their prayers, so Ithought to myself for a minute, and I'm afraid this is something in thenature of what I said--

"'Please send me as soon as you 'ave it, a goodish-sized lump o' breadand drippin', or a big baked 'tater, cos' I am as empty as ever I can'ang together. I don't want nothink tasty, but jist somethink fillin'. I'm very grateful for lions wot talk and 'elps yer like a pal; andplease don't let no blighted coppers a see me, and lock me up. Don'tforget the drippin'--any sort, beef, mutton, or pork. Amen. '

"'Humph!' remarked the Lion, when I concluded, 'that is a most singularpetition; to whom is it addressed?'

"'Up there, Lal, ' I answered, looking into the sky; 'they say you gitseverythink from there. '

"'Dear me, ' replied the Lion, 'really most singular. I notice you didnot describe the manner in which you expected these provisions toarrive. '

"'I'll get 'em, Lal; if not ter-night, ter-morrer. '

"The Lion looked down at me quite kindly I thought. 'What is yourname?' he asked. 

"'Ain't got no name that I knows of 'cept Skylark. '

"The Lion purred softly. 'You will have a name some day, ' he said, 'and a great name, too. Why are you called Skylark now?'

"''Cos I sings and whistles, t'other blokes in the streets calls methat. '

"I was just starting to show him how I could whistle, and had done abit, when we heard pitter-patter, pitter-patter, and the sound offlying padded feet over the stone Square. 

"The Lion sniffed. 'It's a dog. What is he doing here to-night? Isuppose he is lost. '

"I looked out between his paws, and I gave a shout of delight; I wasanswered by loud yelps of gladness. 

"'It's Sam, ' I shouted. 'Oh, Sam, 'ole cockie, 'ere I is; jump up wivme and Lal. '

"'Is he all right?' asked Lal. 

"'Yus, ' I yelled, 'a friend, a fust-class friend. 'Ere, Sam, I'll 'elpyer up by yer paws, ' and he scrambled up and licked my face. Then helooks at the Lion. 

"'He'll do, ' said Lal. 'Tell him not to attract attention by barkingor making any more of that noise. You must both go to sleep; and Imust say that you are a remarkably strange pair. However, here youare, and here you must stay. '

"When I woke up in the morning it was just beginning to be daylight. Ispoke to Lal, but he wouldn't answer, he was cold and still, and didn'tlook as if he had ever spoken or moved in his life, and never wouldagain. I folded the policemen's aprons up tight and thin liketruncheons in case they missed them, clambered down, followed by Sam, and had a wash in one of the basins of the fountains, and got fairlyclean and respectable, except my coat, all torn in half, which Icouldn't help, and then I set out to see what I could find. It was Samwho nosed out something like a breakfast. 

"Two stale buns in a bag. I should think some child had thrown themaway--penny buns they were. I never tasted anything better, and Samhad some of them, and he thought they were all right. 

"I made twopence that day, carrying a bag. The man who gave me the jobgave me the unnecessary caution at the same time, not to run away withit, just as if such a thing was likely. Why, I could hardly lift it, and I couldn't have run two steps with it. 

"He was an inquisitive man too, wanted to know if I had stolen the dog. I said no, I didn't steal. 'Well, ' he asked, 'if you don't steal, howdo you get a living?' I said, 'I'm getting it now. ' He said it mustbe a hard job. I replied, 'Golly, you're right, governor, this 'erebag is that 'eavy it drags me vitals out; wot's it got inside ofit--bricks?' Then he drove me off and said I was a cheeky littledevil, but he gave me twopence. Sam and I went to an eating-house andgot two big lumps of pudding on the strength of it, and that fed usbang up for that day. 

"I waited around at night with Sam, and directly I saw the Square wasdeserted, I hopped up into my old place and Sam after me. 

"'Hullo!' said Lal, 'you two have turned up again, have you?'

"'Yuss, ' I replied; 'it's the only 'ome we've got, yer know, Lal. '

"'I must see what I can do for you, ' mused the Lion. 'There is a man Iknow who could give you work and help you at once, only his heart isvery hard at the present time; unfortunately success hasn't softenedhim--he is a miser. '

"'Ain't a miser a bloke 'oo grabs all wot 'ee gits?' I suggested; 'ifso 'ee wouldn't do nothink 'ansome for Sam and me; the only copper aswe would git art of 'im would be the ones 'eed call up ter give us incharge. A miser don't seem no good to us, as they wants change out o'nothing. '

"'My dear little boy, ' said Lal, 'your language may be pithy, but it isso incorrect; your metaphors, moreover, are so mixed. I think, ' saidthe Lion, 'it is high time I took the Miser in hand; he is capable ofbetter things, and if success cannot give him the milk of humankindness, I must try what sterner measures can effect. Get down now, 'continued the Lion, 'and both of you slip round the other side of thepedestal and hide yourselves. I expect the Miser to pass this wayshortly, and you are not to interrupt on any account, or come backuntil he has gone away, you understand. '

"'Yuss, Lal, anyfink to oblige. Come on, Sam, and may 'is 'eartsoften, ' I said. 

"Well, about a quarter of an hour afterwards, sure enough, a tall, thin, elderly gentleman, with grey hair, in a top hat and frock coat, came along, and he paused when he got to Lal, and looking round firstto see that he was not observed, he stopped beside Lal, and greeted himwith, 'Well, my old friend, and how are you this evening? do you feelinclined to converse with me, or will you remain immovable, silent andcold as you sometimes choose to be? Indeed I hope you feel disposed totalk kindly to me, for I am far from happy, in fact it never enteredinto my calculations that a highly successful man could ever be quiteso miserable. ' After saying so much as this the elderly gentlemanpaused, and observing that Lal had not taken any notice of his remarkswhatever, added in a lower tone, as if speaking to himself, 'Ah, notcommunicable to-night, only bronze and stone, eh?'

"Then the Lion spoke. 'I am not the only thing of bronze and stone. Have you ever thought how the definition might perhaps apply toyourself, for instance, Alderman Simon Gold?'

"The tall thin gentleman appeared to be slightly taken aback by theLion's words. 

"'You have a front of bronze, ' continued the Lion, 'and as hard; youhave a heart of stone and as useless. '

"'It seems to me, my old friend, ' replied the tall thin gentleman, 'that you have some grievance against me by the hard words you aregiving me. I came to you for comfort, but you don't seem to haveanything of the sort to bestow. However, I suppose all of us have ourill humours. '

"'True, ' assented the Lion, 'save that some of us never change that illhumour, but continue with it all through life. You yourself are one ofthose people. '

"'Humph! I certainly have displeased you, ' vouchsafed the tall thingentleman; 'how I really cannot imagine. '

"'I will tell you, ' replied the Lion. 'Listen, therefore, carefully. Let us go back to the very beginning of our acquaintance. I am correctin stating that you were a homeless, ragged little urchin prowling thestreets of London. ' The tall thin man nodded. 'I gave you the onlyshelter you knew; others have used it since, all of them models ofgratitude compared with yourself. My friendship did not stop there. You wanted work, a home, a name and riches. Who directed you to theCity? who told you how to start, and where you would find all thosethings so long as you worked hard and were honest?'

"'I did all those things, ' interrupted the tall thin man; 'I did workhard, I got a home, name, riches, and I have been honest. '

"'Until to-day, ' purred the Lion, 'until to-day, Alderman Gold. '

"'To-day, ' echoed the Alderman, but he started slightly. 

"'Those shares you bought in the City to-day, a very great number, doyou call that transaction honest?'

"The Alderman's eyes sought the ground. 

"'Three people will be ruined in that transaction if you keep to it. '

"'Think of the money. '

"'Think of your name. '

"'I must have money. '

"The Lion laughed. 'You have heaps more than you require. Can youname one good thing you have done with your money or your influencesince I plainly pointed the way out to you how to acquire them?'

"There was no answer. 

"'Will you still decide to acquire those shares dishonestly?'

"'Anybody in the City or on 'Change would do the same thing, it is doneevery day. '

"'Because burglaries may be committed every night, is it any reason whyyou should commit one?'

"'The world is the world, ' replied the Alderman. 'I have to live init, and I have to fight it with its own weapons. '

"'You have no wife. '

"'No, Lal. '

"'No child. '

"'No. '

"'No single soul your wealth can do any good for. '

"'I need it all for myself. '

"'You are hoarding money fast. '

"'I shall need it all when I can no longer work; the value of moneydecreases day by day. What is a fortune now will only be a pittance avery few years hence. '

"'All for yourself?'

"'Yes. '

"'Nothing will change you?'

"'Why should it? I have only myself to consider, and I mean to makemore and more, and more, and never stop; there shall be no limit towhat I shall acquire, it is the only thing I care about now in life. '

"'In addition, ' said the Lion, 'you are cutting down every littlecomfort and every luxury you might enjoy because you are becomingfrightened at every small expense. '

"'Yes, growing expenses are the worries of my life. '

"'In fact, you are becoming daily, slowly and surely, a miser. '

"'It's not a nice word. '

"'It is the truth. Your clerks are the most ill-paid of any in theCity of London. Only last week you cut down your office boy's tinysalary from ten shillings a week to seven shillings, although you knowhe has to pay two shillings a week for fares to and from your office. '

"'How can I help his living out of town?'

"'You know he has to live with his mother and brothers and sisters, five of them in addition to himself. He only takes home five shillingsevery week, but he _gives_ it all up; he is happier than you are. '

"'Any way, I know how to arrange my own business, ' snapped theAlderman. 'I have prospered so far, and I intend to go on and prosper;I am not going to change a single thing in my life or my methods ofbusiness. I have prospered up to now, I shall prosper even more. '

"'And hoard more?' inquired Lal gently. 

"'Yes, you call it hoarding. I call it amassing, and I shall strainevery nerve to amass more and more; it is too late in my life to alternow. '

"'We shall see, ' said the Lion. 'I was going to ask you to dosomething for me, something for some one who is as penniless as youwere once yourself; but if I did ask you a favour now I should onlywaste time. '

"'I have no time for charity, ' said the Alderman. 'I heartily begrudgethe subscriptions we have to give from time to time in the City, yetone is compelled to assist some of those for the sake of business; butas for any outside charity, pooh! it's all rot, it's been proved longago they are all frauds. I shall always decline absolutely to giveanything or do anything for any outside charity. Life is too short. '

"'We shall see, ' said the Lion. 'Good-night. '

"When Lal's friend from the City had departed, I came out from thecorner where I had been waiting, and Sam and I clambered up into ourold place out of sight. At that time I considered the City Alderman avery horrid mean old man, and remembering Lal's words that he was amiser, I made a mental resolution that although this was the firstspecimen of the kind I had ever encountered, I never wished to meetanother of the same sort. 

"'Well?' inquired Lal, as I lay and looked up into his face beforesettling down for the night. 'What do you think of him?'

"''Ard-hearted, ain't 'e?' I replied. 

"'Humph! yes, at present, ' mused Lal. 

"'Wot will yer give 'im ter take for it?' I asked. 

"Lal smiled. 'Oh, a little prescription of my own. '

"'That bloke wot's just gone won't do nothink fer me. Can't yersuggest somethink else, Lal, somebody as I could go to as would give mesome work?'

"'If you have patience, ' answered Lal, 'and look around and get a fewodd jobs, and a little grub for yourself and Sam every day for a littlewhile, like the small London sparrow that you are--I beg your pardon, Ishould have said Skylark--I shall be able very shortly to bring ourfriend to a better frame of mind; at the present moment his sense ofproportion is all wrong. '

"'Wot's sense of proportion, Lal?' I inquired. 

"'If, ' replied Lal, 'you persisted in thinking that you were as big asI am, for instance, your sense of proportion would be bad; if Iimagined that I was as great as St. Martin's Church yonder, my sense ofproportion would be worse. '

"'Lor' lummy, don't I jist wish I was as big as you. '

"'Why?' asked Lal. 

"''Cos I'd 'ave a bit more weight to do fings wiv. There ain't nodoubt that strength tells in the end. '

"Lal only chuckled at what I said, and I again went sound to sleep, asupon former occasions, in my strange roosting-place. 

"The Alderman was in the habit of crossing Trafalgar Square everyevening upon his way home, although I had never observed him until thenight Lal had pointed him out to me; consequently, a few eveningsafterwards, I first noticed how strangely he was beginning to walk. Ican only describe it as a sort of zigzag from side to side, andoccasionally a sort of stumble, as if he was not quite certain where hewas going. 

"Now I had often noticed the man who used to beat me, and from whom Ihad run away, walk something like that, and yet I knew at once it wasnot owing to the same reason, and I was rather puzzled to account forit, as the Alderman had never walked like that before, and had alwaysbeen so upright and brisk. 

"As the different evenings went on he grew worse and worse, until onenight I found him slowly groping his way across the Square, with hishands stretched out in front of him, as if he was frightened of runninginto something at every step: that was the first evening I led himacross the Square and over the road the other side; he seemed todislike the idea of the steps, and always avoided them, I noticed. 

"I did this for several evenings, and he never gave me anything, but ashe was an old friend of Lal's I did it more for Lal's sake than for theMiser's, as I now called him; yet he seldom even thanked me forassisting him, although it was only too evident that he ought not to bewalking by himself. A few days went by with nothing in particular toremember about them, until the evening arrived that was to be theturning-point in two people's lives, but at the time I knew nothing ofthis, for my small mind was overwhelmed with the first great childishgrief of my life. I hadn't earned even one copper that day, and Samand I had not had a crumb to eat. I think we must have both lookedvery thin and white. I know that Sam's bones could be seen plainerthan ever through his dear, shaggy old brown coat; but Sam nevercomplained, he stuck to me closer than ever; nobody ever had a betterfriend than he was. 

"As ill luck would have it, Sam and I were crossing the wide streetwhere the traffic is always heaviest, before turning in at our oldquarters for the night. One of the many omnibuses passed, and somebodyeither dropped or threw a small bag of biscuits over the side of it;some rolled in the road, but a lot were left in the bag. 

"Sam, who was the finest dog for spotting grub I have ever known, wentfor it like lightning; he had got it in his mouth, and was scurryingback to me in triumph with his old ears back, full of the importance ofhis find, when a two-horsed mail van struck him down in the road andwent over him. I went in between all the maze of wheels and got himout; he was whimpering like a hurt child. I didn't wait for anything, I carried him along towards the old place by Lal; but he only gave me alick, and died in my arms before I got there. 

"I couldn't climb up to Lal with Sam in my arms, and I wouldn't leavehim, so I don't know how long it was I crouched down in the shadow andcried over Sam--bitter tears I wept, I know. I was alone and utterlywretched, and Sam wouldn't ever speak to me again, would never do anymore of his tricks. When I noticed that even in his death he hadn'treleased the bag of biscuits from his mouth, my tears flowed anew, andI couldn't somehow have touched one of them if I had been twice ashungry as I was. My grief at the death of Sam was so great that Ididn't seem to want to tell Lal about it, so I lay huddled up by thecorner of the pedestal where the shadow is darkest for what must havebeen some considerable time. Then I heard feet groping about and thevoice of Alderman Gold talking. 

"For a long time I didn't care to listen to what he was talking to Lalabout. I heard the man say mockingly, 'Well, I suppose I'm beaten, andyou have been right all the time, my old wise Lion. What cannot beendured, however, can sometimes be cured, so here's your health. '

"I heard a low angry growl from Lal, unlike any sound I had ever heardhim make before, then Lal raised his paw and knocked something out ofthe Alderman's hand that fell with a tinkling sound of broken glass. 

"I came slowly out of my corner to see what it was all about, and intime to hear Lal say, 'You fool, oh! you fool, when will your eyes everbe opened?'

"'I was going to close them for ever. What's the good of having themopen _when I cannot see_?'

"The Miser seemed to be angry as well as Lal, for his voice wastrembling with passion. 'Why, ' continued the Miser, 'should I remain_blind_ to please you, in order that all your prophecies may come true?Why destroy the stuff I had bought just when I had need of it?'

"The Lion regarded the Miser steadily with those fine great eyes ofhis, somehow he seemed to look the Miser right through; then the Lionsniffed thrice, very contemptuously. 

"'Do you know _why_ you are blind?' he asked the Miser. 

"'No, ' answered the man, 'to be going blind is terrible enough withoutasking the reason of it; what matter what this or that theory may be, when the thing is there to speak for itself? I know I cannot see, andthat being the case my life is finished. '

"'Or perhaps beginning, ' ventured the Lion contemplatively. 'Youcannot see, Alderman Gold, because your eyes are filled with the colourof the thing you have made your God all through your life; it is thegold dust that has blinded you. The dazzling golden hoard you desiredthrough life, watched, kept, gloated over. This love that tinged allyour life and thoughts and feelings has poisoned you, has permeatedwith its fatal colour everything so that you cannot any longer see thebeauty of the blue sky, the ripple of the moving waters, the tenderbloom of blossoming flowers and trees. Remove the terrible gold-dustfrom your eyes that you have worshipped and you will see again, perhapsbetter than you have ever really seen before. '

"'Cease! cease!' broke in the Miser; 'you are only mocking my miserynow, and even if what you say is true, it is too late now to help me. '

"'Not too late, ' returned the Lion, more gently, I thought, than he hadspoken hitherto; 'just in time, I think, just in time. ' Then he calledme. 'Skylark, ' said the Lion, 'come here. '

"I came out from my hiding-place, still hugging the body of poor Samclose to me. The Miser peered at me curiously, though he couldn't seeme very well, or what I was holding, judging from the expression of hisface. 

"'I suppose, ' said the Miser, 'this is the ragged little wretch who isalways hanging about here. '

"'He is very ragged now, ' said the Lion patiently, 'but he will be verygreat one day. '

"The Miser laughed his harsh, unpleasant laugh, and peered down to seewhat I was carrying so carefully, then he put out his hand and touchedSam's coat. 

"I pushed his hand away with my own dirty and grubby paw, but in a verydetermined way. 

"'Don't yer touch 'im, ' I cried. 

"'It's a dog, ' said the Miser, 'and it's dead; a dead dog isn't of muchuse to any one, ' and he laughed again. I felt when he laughed that myblood was boiling. 

"'Look 'ere, if 'ee's dead, 'ee's gone straight to 'Eaven, which is 'isproper place, an' where 'e'll 'ave fields an' the country and rabbitsto chase, an' all them fings wot 'e ought ter 'ave 'ad in his life'ere, an' 'e'll a wait fer me there sure as 'e always waited fer me'ere, an' don't you say nothink agin Sam, 'cos in 'is life 'e was adamned sight better than wot you are, so there. '

"By this time my outraged feelings had so overcome me that I wasshouting at the Miser, who stood stock still saying nothing, for thesuddenness, to say nothing of the impudence, of my attack seemed tohave rendered him speechless. 

"'Steady, Skylark, steady, ' said the Lion; 'try and behave a littlemore respectfully, and cease to use that distressing street language;'then Lal added by way of an afterthought, 'Come, climb up here, I wantto talk to you. '

"I laid Sam down for the first time and complied with his request. 

"'Now, ' said Lal, 'what shall I do with Alderman Simon Gold?'

"''Im?' I asked, pointing to the Miser. 

"'Precisely. '

"'Well, can't yer jist blow that there gold dust out of 'is eyes wotseems to be a-choking of 'em as you sed 'e 'ad? You can do most fings, Lal; 'ave a go, and see if 'e don't get better. '

"The Lion smiled his very wisest smile, then he asked me, 'LittleSkylark, what have you got round your neck?'

"'Only rags, Lal, but I can't 'elp them, you knows that. '

"'Look again, little Skylark. '

"'Lor lummy, ' I said, 'wot is it?' for I was startled by theunexpectedness of the thing I saw. Something seemed hanging round myneck that glowed and glistened and sparkled like ever so many jewels. The sort of gems that had made me wink my eyes whenever I had seen themin the shop-windows. 

"'Lal, wot is it? 'ow did it get there?'

"'It is the Order of Imagination, ' said Lal solemnly, 'and oh! littleSkylark, there are only a few, such a few in the world who have everworn it, even for a few minutes. You will think of this some day, youwill remember my words always. Take it off your neck, Skylark, and putit over the neck of Alderman Simon Gold for an instant, for he is onlyjust worthy to wear it. Look, there are two tears in his eyes, tearsof pity, the first he has ever shed in his life, and tears of pity, little Skylark, are the keys that open the Golden Gates of Heaven. '

"I did as Lal bid me, and I shall never forget. Simon Gold's facebecame radiant. 

"'I can see, ' he gasped, 'can see! Oh, Lal, what a brute I have been!What have I been thinking about? Why am I so different? Why do I feelthat I want to give something to all the world? Why, Lal, I want togive, I insist upon giving. Lal, why am I a different man, withdifferent feelings, with a _heart_?'

"Once again Lal smiled that wise smile of his. 

"'The Order of Imagination does many things, ' said Lal. 'If you wantto give, why not give with all your heart now and as long as you live?Everybody, however, has to make a start. Well, start by giving theSkylark a home, a good education, help him towards being the great manthat I say he will one day become. You will have found a faithful, loving, lifelong friend, something as faithful and devoted as thefriend whose life he himself mourns to-night. '

"'Poor old dog, ' said Alderman Gold, 'I can't help him now, I wish Icould, but I'll help the other, by Jove, I will; of course I'll see hehas a good home, I'll see he's educated. '

"'I think he will repay you for all the money you will spend upon hiseducation, ' said the Lion, significantly. 

"'And I mean to spend money, ' said the Alderman. 'I've been a beastlymiser, that's what I've been, but I shall never have that taunt flungat me again. '

"'Good, ' nodded the Lion. 'Help him bury his pet in the big garden ofyour London house, and bury at the same time all the past you want toforget. '

"'I will, ' said the Alderman. 'Here, come along and get fed. Here, what's your name?'

"'Skylark, ' prompted the Lion. 

"'Skylark? A very good name, ' said the Alderman; 'it suggests Spring, and--and----'

"'Going steadily upward, ' prompted the Lion. 

"'By Jove, Lal, you're wonderful, ' exclaimed the Alderman. 'How can Ithank you for giving me my sight again, for making a different man ofme? and, good gracious, now I come to think of it clearly andreasonably, every single thing you have told me has always been true. '

"'If you believe that, ' said the Lion, 'listen attentively to the lastthing I tell you, even more upon account of it being the last time Ishall actually _speak_ to either of you. '

"'Say on, Lal, we cannot do without your help; I know I can't, and Ithought I could do most things. '

"'You may consider it most inconsequent of me to mention such achildishly fabled person to you as Dick Whittington, and yet strangelyenough that hero of a nursery legend will have a great deal in commonwith both of you in your future lives. '

"'Shall I be Lord Mayor of London three times?' laughed the Alderman, who had appeared suddenly to have discovered how to laugh, and itsounded strange to hear him. 

"'I won't say _three_ times, ' said the Lion, 'but you will be one ofthe greatest Lord Mayors of London in about fourteen years from now;you will be knighted, and you will become one of the most beloved andbenevolent men in the whole City of London. '

"'That sounds fine, ' said the Alderman; 'how about Master Skylark?'

"'Too early to prophesy, ' said the Lion, 'with certainty, but I may saythis; I think when he has also found another Dick Whittington, and oneever so different from yourself, he will become great almost byaccident, but he has to find this Dick Whittington first. He willnever part with Dick Whittington when he has found him, but as a resultof sitting in front of him day by day in great perplexity, he willsuddenly do the first thing that will make his name. You will only_resemble_ Dick Whittington in your career, the Skylark will _find_Dick Whittington. '

"'By Jove, ' said the Alderman, 'that is a pretty difficult riddle, Lal, and as I shall never solve it we can only wait and see. '

"The Lion smiled. 

"'I believe you thoroughly love a riddle, Lal, you old Sphinx. Well, anything else? Tell me, how much more of the future do you see?'

"'Oh, a lot of things, ' answered Lal, 'a very great many of them youwould not understand now, even if I explained them to you, which Ishall not think of doing. For instance, I see a very happy, cheerfuland prosperous elderly gentleman--ahem!--whose acquaintance you willone day make, and whose amiable personality you in common with otherswill thoroughly appreciate. I see a future charming Lady Mayoresswhose--ahem!--friendship you will be most glad of. I see two oldfriends falling out about a certain matter of business in alllikelihood, and the _younger_ of the two will be absolutely in theright. I see an estrangement that doesn't last more than a few years, then a joyful reconciliation, perhaps all the more joyful on account ofthe former separation. Then, ' said the Lion, 'I seesomething--ahem!--a series of most painful incidents, most unbecomingto myself as well as yourself. '

"'Good gracious, ' said the Alderman, 'I wonder whatever that can be?'

"'Like most other things about which there is a great fuss andcommotion, it will rise from a simple cause. There will be a greatmeeting held in a public building, and the result of that meeting willbe in your favour. '

"'In my favour, ' echoed the astonished Alderman. 

"'Distinctly in your favour, and it will make the whole of Englandlaugh. '

"'At me?' inquired the Alderman, with an apprehensive note in his voiceof quite pardonable nervousness. 

"'No, ' said the Lion, 'the laugh will be rather upon your side, Ithink. '

"'Indeed, ' said the Alderman; 'well, that sounds a bit better. '

"'Moreover, ' continued the Lion, 'for my own part I regret to say Ishall be taken in a triumphant procession through the streets ofLondon, guarded upon all sides by the police, and the whole proceedingsthroughout will be sufficiently ridiculous to cause me the acutestdiscomfort, all of which will be most undeserved and brought upon me bythe extravagant adulation of my would-be admirers. However, I shallhave to comfort myself in that time to come by considering that I amnot the only victim who has been sacrificed from the same cause. '

"'Apart from the deep mystery attached to your strange prophecies, 'observed the Alderman, 'which I do not pretend at present tounderstand, but which nevertheless I know will all come true, I amtruly concerned about one thing. Are you really serious, Lal, in yourintention of never speaking to me again? I feel the loss will beirreparable, for you have always been my wisest councillor from myboyhood upwards, and I only wish I had profited by your wisdom beforeand listened more attentively to your counsels in the past, whateveralterations I make in my life for the future. '

"'I shall never actually speak with either of you again, ' replied Lal, 'but you will be able to live all your youthful days over again inhim;' here Lal pointed to me. 'You can help him to avoid all themistakes you have made yourself; yet do not misunderstand me, I shallgive both of you a sign, and an unmistakable sign, to show how pleasedI am if you fulfil all the expectations I shall have cherished aboutyou. '

"'What sort of sign?' asked the Alderman. 

"'I shall not tell you now, and you will both have to do an awful lotbefore I show you the sign that I am satisfied with you eventually. '

"Now let me see, ' mused the Alderman, 'isn't there any little thing wecould do for you to show that we hadn't forgotten you?'

"'You know what I expect of you, ' retorted the Lion, 'keep yourpromises. '

"'Apart from that, ' suggested the Alderman, 'some sort of memento, somesort of recognition. '

"'Oh, no, ' hastily interposed Lal, 'no recognition, please, it is theone thing I dread most in the world owing to the curious position Ioccupy in public life. However, in the years to come, if you canreasonably and truthfully look back upon all you have accomplished witha certain amount of justifiable pride and satisfaction, you can comehere quietly one night and place a big wreath of water-lilies; lay themas an offering between my paws; on no account hang them round my necklike the other terrible people do upon Trafalgar Day, it only makes melook ridiculous. '

"'Why water-lilies?' asked the Alderman. 

"'My favourite flower, ' sighed the Lion, 'and, moreover, the one Inever see. You see, the fountains splash about so incessantly thatthere is no peaceful place where they can grow, and you wouldn'tbelieve, ' added the Lion earnestly, 'how I sometimes long for thoseirritating fountains to stop, and for beautiful water-lilies to growthere instead. '

"'It shall all be done as you say, and I will ponder over every singlething you have mentioned, ' promised the Alderman. 

"'Good-bye till then, ' said the Lion in his most sepulchral voice, andthen the Lion smiled at me and said, 'Good-bye, little Skylark. '

"For my own part I had stood by quite silent without saying a word, butI somehow realized that if I wasn't going to see and speak to my oldfriend Lal any more, there were several things I wanted to say, and agood many more things I wanted to ask. 

"'Ere, 'old on 'arf a mo', cocky, ' I shouted. 

"'Oh, _don't_ call me cocky, ' entreated Lal, 'and what _do_ you mean bythat expression "hold on"? Is not my whole life a perpetual exhibitionof "_holding on_"?'

"'You've been a first-class, tip-top pal to me, Lal, an' I wants terknow first where that there ring wot shined like blazes, and wot 'unground my neck and then round 'is, 'as a-gone to? Ain't I to 'ave it nomore?'

"'You will have the memory of it, ' replied Lal; 'you have possessed itonce, and I think you will have quite enough imagination left allthrough your life without it; in fact, in the future, at times you willhave rather too much imagination for the comfort of your otherfellow-creatures. '

"''Ave I got to go with 'im?' I asked; ''ave I got to say good-bye toyou?'

"'Certainly, ' replied Lal in his most stately way; 'you are going tohave a very happy life; you are a fairly respectable kid now, but youwill become more and more respectable until one will hardly recogniseyou at all. You are going to have a ready-made Father and Mother whichI have provided you with. '

"'Ain't 'eard nothink about no Muvver yet, ' I said; 'where's the Muvvercome in?'

"'Ah! you wait and see, ' whispered the Lion mysteriously. 

"'Are you a-kiddin' me, Lal? if so, chuck it!'

"'Oh! dreadful, dreadful expressions!' lamented Lal. 'Undoubtedly thenext time I see you I believe your grammar will have improved, and yourvocabulary have become more select. I hope so!'

"It was at this point that something about Lal's eyes and attitude gaveme the idea he was going to shut up for good, so to speak, and myfeelings so overcame me, that without thinking I flung my arms roundLal's neck, that is to say, as far as they would go, and hugged him. 

"Lal opened his eyes again, and somehow I am sure that he was grinning, such a pleasant-looking, happy grin, but he spoke in his severestmanner to me--

"You must really restrain these exhibitions of feeling in public; if apoliceman chanced to observe you I think there would be the greatestdifficulty in offering any adequate explanation. 

"'No, Lal, ' I answered; 'all I ses to the coppers when they ses anyfinkto me is "Rats"--always "Rats, " and when I ses "Rats" they can finkwhat they jolly well likes. '

"Lal sighed, and said, 'How like Dick Whittington!' and those were thevery last words I ever heard him speak, although I little dreamed how Iwas to meet him again. "

 * * * * *

At this juncture Cookie appeared carrying a most wonderful silverntea-tray, whereon a bright gilded urn sizzled happily, and a mostinviting-looking pyramid of toasted muffins nestled in apparentlyfriendly rivalry with the choicest cakes of Cookie's own baking; even aheaped-up crystal dish of whole strawberry jam could not conceal itsblushes as the firelight played upon it. 

"Fairy tales, " said Cookie, "I know; I've listened to them many a timemyself. "

"No, Cookie, you are wrong, " ventured Ridgwell in tones of rebuke; "itis not a fairy tale, every word of it is true. "

"That's what Cinderella always declared, Master Ridgwell, " was Cookie'simperturbable reply, as she prepared to depart. 

The Writer chuckled quietly. 

"Of course it is true, isn't it?" asked Ridgwell and Christine inunison. 

"Of course, " said the Writer, "every word of it, and anyway if it isn'tit ought to be, like all romances. "

"But you haven't finished, " objected Ridgwell, whilst he munched amuffin, and Christine poured out the tea. 

"No, " agreed the Writer, "I haven't finished yet, but I warned you thatit would be a very long story, didn't I?"

"Oh, but we are so anxious to know what happened to the Skylark and theMiser, I mean the Alderman, for of course he wasn't a miser any more, was he?"

"Well, you see, " explained the Writer, as he took his tea contentedly, which he really felt he stood in need of, apart from any considerationof deserving it, "nobody is able to read a long book all at once, and Ipropose to tell both of you the remainder of this extraordinary storyin a few days' time. "

"Anyway, that's ripping, " vouchsafed Ridgwell. 

"I think myself, " added the Writer mysteriously, "that the great eventsLal spoke of so long ago are about to happen. "

"Do tell us when?" implored Ridgwell. 

"I fancy very soon now; of course, you children don't read the papers, do you?"

Ridgwell and Christine shook their heads. 

"Well, in to-day's paper there was one paragraph that threw out a verydecided hint that the present Lord Mayor of London was going to beknighted by the King, not only on account of his public worth, butbecause the wonderful Home for London Children he has built is almostcompleted. "

"Of course, the new Lord Mayor is Alderman Gold?" inquired Christine. 

"He was Alderman Gold, " said the Writer, "but I think myself beforemany days have passed it will be Sir Simon and Lady Gold. "

"Who is Lady Gold? You never told us a word about Lady Gold, " objectedRidgwell. 

"Ah, " said the Writer, "that will all come in the second part of mystory. Any way, no name was ever more appropriate than hers. She isabsolutely gold all through, head and heart and everything. Lady Goldis, I consider, an absolutely suitable name for her, although twopeople I know always call her Mum; and, do you know, I think she willprefer that title, even when she gets the other. "

"Who are the two people who call her Mum?"

"That's telling in advance, " observed the Writer, as he helped himselfto a fourth muffin; "and of course to tell in advance always spoils astory. But I intend that both of you children shall hear and see thestory to an end. In three days' time from now I am coming to fetch youboth, and you will be able to see the Lord Mayor drive past in state, for I am giving a tea to celebrate that great occasion and also anothergreat occasion at one and the same time. I will finish the story then, and you will both meet the Lord Mayor of London. "

"Will he have his robes on?" inquired Christine expectantly. 

"I don't know that he will wear them, but perhaps I could induce him tobring them with him to show us. "

"That's fine, " said Ridgwell. "Will you really come to fetch us?"

"Yes, in three days' time. "

"Where do you live?" asked Ridgwell, unexpectedly. 

The Writer pretended to be most mysterious all at once. 

"Where do you suppose I live?" he asked Ridgwell; "I do not think youwill ever guess. "

"Whitechapel?" hazarded Ridgwell. 

The Writer pretended to look almost hurt. 

"Peckham?" suggested Christine. 

"Very bad guesses, " laughed the Writer. "You are both wrong. I have aset of chambers facing Trafalgar Square, where every morning of my lifeI can look out of the front windows and see my dear old friend Lal. "

Both the children gave a shout at this astounding piece of information. 

"And we shall see the Lord Mayor go past in state from the windows?"

"Yes, " said the Writer; "but if what I believe is coming to pass, provided that the right time has come, and I think myself it has, weshall all see the sign that Lal promised us he would give, so long ago. "

"The sign, " echoed Ridgwell breathlessly; "I say, that's somethinglike!"

"We shall see what we shall see, and as that is Chapter One of my storyI am going to take my departure. "

After the Writer had left, Ridgwell turned to Christine. 

"It's the jolliest afternoon we've had since Father and Mother left, isn't it, Chris?"

Christine nodded; she was considering many things. 

CHAPTER VI

TWO DICK WHITTINGTONS

The streets of London were alive with an unwonted gaiety, and crowds ofpeople waited patiently, and with an air of expectancy, to see the LordMayor of London pass in state on his way from the Mansion House to theHome for Children which he had built--about to be opened that day byhis Majesty the King. 

Ridgwell and Christine sat in the broad, chintz-covered window-seat ofthe Writer's chambers overlooking Trafalgar Square, and viewed thegreat crowds of people beneath them with astonishment and interest. 

"When the Lord Mayor passes my window, " said the Writer, "he haspromised to look out as far as his dignity will permit and nod to me. That he also intends to nod to our old friend Lal is a foregoneconclusion, for without that recognition upon his part I am sure theday's ceremony would be incomplete. "

"Will it be like a circus?" inquired Ridgwell. 

"Yes, rather like a circus, " admitted the Writer. "That is to say, avery great deal of gilt and highly coloured horses, soldiers, andinevitably one brass band playing, probably more than one. "

"We can see Lal perfectly from here, " said Christine. 

"What is that large wreath for, placed between Lal's paws?" askedRidgwell. 

"That, " declared the Writer, "was placed there early this morning bythe Lord Mayor himself. He ordered it from Covent Garden, and he hadgreat difficulty in procuring it even there. The wreath is entirelycomposed of water-lilies, Lal's favourite flower, and is put there inhonour of the occasion. Of course this is undoubtedly one of the greatdays in the Lord Mayor's life, and he looks upon it as one of thecrowning features in his whole career. "

A sudden increased agitation among the crowd, a rumble as of cheeringin the distance, and the first sound of trumpets and drums announcedthat the procession was drawing near. 

The first sign of the vanguard were some mounted policemen who rodeahead to clear the way. There appeared to be little need for thisprecaution, as the crowds were standing in most orderly rows along thepavements. 

"I'm sure Lal doesn't like those policemen, " said Ridgwell decisively. 

"No, " agreed the Writer, "he sees such a lot of them where he is and, of course, he detests crowds of any sort, they jostle and bump hispedestal so much that it makes him feel uncomfortable. Here come themounted soldiers; they look very smart, don't they? And here is theband, blowing their trumpets for all they are worth; some of themalmost look as if they would burst with the effort. "

"Is that first carriage the Lord Mayor's?" inquired Christine. 

"No, the first carriages are all the other Aldermen. "

"Six carriages full, " said Christine. "And look at those men in redand gold standing up behind the last coaches. "

"Yes, " said Ridgwell, "strap-hangers. I wonder how they keep theirbalance and keep all that powder on their heads. "

"I fancy, " said the Writer, "they have to practise it; and as for thepowder, I expect it is a secret preparation known only to themselves. "

A burst of renewed cheering greeted the appearance of six cream horses, richly caparisoned with red and gold trappings, urged on by outriders. 

"Here is the Lord Mayor, " exclaimed the Writer excitedly, as heproduced a large red silk handkerchief and waved it wildly out of thewindow. 

There could be no doubt whatever that a fat old gentleman with redcheeks and a white moustache, whose portly form was covered with ascarlet and fur gown, around which hung a lot of glittering goldenchains, and who had one side of the state coach all to himself, saw theWriter's greeting and returned it. The children saw him look up at thewindow and deliberately bow, then he turned his head in the directionof Lal, the Pleasant-Faced Lion, and bowed and smiled. 

"Quite gorgeous, " observed Ridgwell when the procession had passed, "but I always thought from what you told us that Alderman Gold was talland thin. "

"Ah, " said the Writer, "that was at the beginning of the story, and hewas a Miser then, and most misers are thin; but as he grew more andmore cheerful, more and more happy, he grew a bit fatter and a bitfatter still, and then he got colour in his cheeks, until he became thejolly, agreeable, fat, old, good-natured gentleman you have seen justnow in the distance. However, you will be able to see him at closerquarters and make his jolly acquaintance for yourselves presently, forhe will call here and see me after all the ceremony is over. "

"Will he be in time for tea?" inquired Christine. 

"No, much too late for tea, Christine, but there will be a welcome forhim, which I know he is looking forward to, and something I think hewill like better than the big City banquet he has presided at, and itwill be waiting for him here--a good cigar and a drink, " and the Writerindicated a very handsome piece of old oak furniture at the end of thelong room, which contained mysterious little cupboards which opened inodd angles and unexpected curves. 

"I do hope he will turn up in his robes, " ventured Ridgwell. "I ratherwant to see what they are like. "

"We must wait and see about that, and as it must be some considerabletime before tea, and a longer time still before His Worshipful theMayor can possibly be here, I propose to finish the rest of the story Itold you, right up to the present time. Of course, Lal may give thesign he promised to-night, or he may not; if he does you will both behere to see it. "

Thereupon Ridgwell and Christine curled themselves up upon the broadwindow seat, and prepared to listen. 

The Writer closed the window, and they all noticed that the crowdsbeneath were rapidly dispersing; occasionally some one would stop for asecond and look at the big wreath of water-lilies between the Lion'spaws, but the majority of people passing appeared not to have noticedit at all. 

"Where did I get to in the story?" asked the Writer. 

"Lal had said his last word to you, " volunteered Ridgwell; "and what Iparticularly want to know is this: how did that second mysteriouspromise about Dick Whittington come true eventually, and did you evermeet Dick Whittington as Lal declared that you would, and did he reallybring you fame and fortune when you met him?"

The Writer smiled. "Yes, indeed I met him, but not in any way orfashion that I should ever have expected. Of course both of youchildren know Lal well enough by this time to realise that he loves alittle joke of his own at our expense, and many of his mysteriouspromises, although they come true in a way, turn out to be utterly andcompletely different from what he would seem to suggest to us by hiswords; in fact, Lal is like a great happy conjuror or wizard who dearlyloves to mystify us with a trick. I am convinced he enjoys ouramazement at any of his pet tricks, as much as he enjoys the laugh hehas at our expense. "

"That's right, " said Ridgwell; "he tricked Chris and me finely once. Ihaven't forgiven him so very long for it, and it made me feel veryuncomfortable for a good while. "

"Everybody forgives Lal in the end, " laughed the Writer; "one simplycannot help oneself, but really his pranks are too absurd, and yet whenI found out how I had been tricked, I couldn't be cross with him, for Iactually loved his funny old ways more than before, if such a thingwere possible. To continue my story where I left off, Alderman Goldseemed in some miraculous way to have had much more than his sightrestored to him that night. The first thing he did was to lift thebody of poor Sam very gently, and as we left the Square he called acab, and whilst we drove to his big mansion in Lancaster Gate, he askedme to tell him everything I could remember about my short life up tothat time. Of course, I did so in my own peculiar fashion; theverbiage of the street and the gutter must have been freely sprinkledabout during that narrative. Sometimes he looked thoughtful, and atother times he lay back in the cab and laughed out loud. When wearrived at his big house, which seemed to me at that time to be amighty great mansion, he first made his way into a very big garden atthe back where there were a lot of trees, and opening a gardening shed, he got a spade and dug a grave for Sam deep down under the trees, andit is there with his name, which was afterwards carved on a piece ofwood, until this day. 

"Whilst my childish tears were still flowing as the result of this sadceremony, a lady came down the garden path in the moonlight, and as shejoined us I noticed that although she appeared a little startled, shehad a most beautiful face. 

"'I didn't know it was you, sir, I couldn't think who could be diggingin the garden at this time of night, and I grew frightened. '

"'Mrs. Durham, ' said the Alderman earnestly, 'I was digging a grave forthe dead pet of this small piece of humanity here, who will henceforthbe one of your special charges. '

"Mrs. Durham glanced at the Alderman rather in amazement, I thought, asif he had suddenly taken leave of his senses, but she looked at me asshe has ever done in a most kindly way. 

"'Skylark, ' said the Alderman, 'this is Mrs. Durham, my housekeeper. 'Perhaps the Alderman had seen the expression upon Mrs. Durham's face, and had interpreted it correctly, for he added, 'Mrs. Durham, I amsomewhat ashamed to say that in the grave of a faithful and mostdevoted creature I have here buried metaphorically, for good and all, as many of the reprehensible habits of my old life as I can cast atonce, therefore, if I seem to you to be very different in the future, you may know there is a good reason for my being so. Could youconveniently take this infant and get him something substantial to eatand drink, and see he is put to bed?'

"Mrs. Durham said, 'Very well, sir, ' and taking my hand led me into thehouse; but she still looked amazed, as if she had seen a ghost, Ithought. 

"A good many other people, I fancy, must have looked amazed the nextday, when in the Alderman's big City offices all the clerks found thattheir salaries were to be raised. I rather imagine the office boy wasthe most astonished of all, for upon discovering that his master hadraised his weekly remuneration to a pound a week, he was heard toexclaim, 'Well, that knocks all, that is if the Governor hasn't gotsoftening of the brain!'

"The Alderman didn't stop there by a long way, for I know that all theservants in his house commenced to have a different time of it, and histhoughtfulness, as far as I was concerned, was more than wonderful. 

"I remember a few days after my arrival he called a council of war withMrs. Durham, at which I was present, and I may say in passing, thatMrs. Durham and I were by this time fast friends. 

"'There is one thing that must be done at once, Mrs. Durham, ' Iremember him saying during that important interview; 'the youngstermust go at once to school. Now the difficulty is this: I don't wanthim to start at a disadvantage from the very beginning, and speaking ashe does now, no ordinary school would take him. '

"'I'm afraid not, sir, ' debated Mrs. Durham. 

"'Very well, then, ' said the Alderman, 'at present there is only onething to do; we must have somebody here to teach him English, anyway tospeak properly and to write and spell before he goes to a school. Itmust be done, but I think myself it is going to take time, ' concludedthe Alderman. Then he put on his hat and started for the City. 

"I am not going to dwell upon this youthful period of my life, foreverybody's school-days very much resemble every other person's, but Ido know that the Alderman's belief that my education would take timeproved to be only too true. I shall never forget how long andpainfully I worked and toiled to speak my verbs in their proper tenses, to stop dropping my aitches, how I longed to drop the Cockney slang, how my life became possessed with a sort of terror that I should comeout with some expression that would cause concern to either mybenefactor or to Mrs. Durham. 

"Well, I strove, and at last I succeeded so well that I was sent to afine school where I received a first-class education, and the onlyeffect of the great struggles I went through at this time was a sort ofnervousness which I shall have all through my life, and which results, no doubt, from intense anxiety all those years not to make mistakes. 

"And so I skip along until one night after the school had broken up atthe end of a winter term. I remember it all so well. I had taken thebest prizes in the fifth form, I was barely fifteen, and I rushed home, tore into the library, and emptied all those beautifully bound booksinto my benefactor's lap. He had been smoking his cigar, and wasdozing in front of the fire. 

"'What do you think of that, Dad?' I yelled. I always called him Dadas a sort of distinction, for although he wasn't my father really, hehad been a ripping father to me. 

"'Bless my heart, my boy, ' he said, 'have you taken all these prizes?Why, I'm proud of you. '

"'And I proud of you, ' I said; then I laughed at him. 'You've tried tokeep a secret from me, Dad, ' I cried, 'and you haven't succeeded a bit. Where's Mum?'

"'Now how on earth did you know that, miles away at school, too?'laughed the Alderman. 

"'Read it in the papers days ago. Where is she, Dad? I want to giveher a good hug. '

"'I'm here, dear boy, ' said a voice just over my shoulder, a voice Iknew so well, that had helped me more in my childish hours than I couldever count, a voice that was perhaps the one that had taught me tospeak correctly in those trying early days. She wasn't Mrs. Durham anylonger, she was Mrs. Gold, but she hadn't altered one bit, and she wasMum then, as she has always been since. 

"It wouldn't be honest to skip the next part of the story, and yet Ialways want to omit this part somehow, because it is entirely composedof events brought about by my own selfishness, obstinacy andpig-headedness, although as a young man I never realised the greatgrief and the real trouble I was causing to people who had always lovedme and done everything for me. 

"It started after the time I had left the University of Oxford. I hadjust commenced to feel my wings, so to speak. Everything there hadhelped to increase and nourish my love of literature, the set I mixedwith had placed me on a sort of pedestal which I in no way deserved, everybody seemed to expect a lot from me, every one seemed to believe Iwould do great and wonderful things, and what was more disastrousstill, I believed I should do wonderful things myself. Imbued withthese beliefs, I went home after my last year at Oxford, determined tobe a great writer, mark you, not an ordinary writer, since I waspositively assured of the fact that I had only to make an appearance inprint to be instantly proclaimed one of the immortals. Whilst I was inthis ridiculous frame of mind, Dad unfolded to me the cherished schemeof his life. It was that I should go into his office and learn thebusiness, and one day become the head of the firm. 

"I think my blank face must have told them the utter hopelessness ofthe scheme, even before I had explained to them all my hopes andbeliefs as to what I intended to be. One of the things I regret mostin my life was the grief I saw only too plainly upon the old Dad'sface. He had been brought up a business man all his life, he didn'tbelieve in Literature as a living. He never argued, he didn't storm, hardly said anything, except begging me in an appealing sort of way toreconsider my decision. But I saw at once that I had dealt adeath-blow to all his hopes, and, like the selfish young brute I was, Ididn't care so long as I got my own way. 

"I must have been utterly mad at the time, or intoxicated with my ownbelief in myself, for I even went further, and said I was going awaywithout any further help of any sort, and that I would make a name, andnot come back until I had done so. I refused all assistance; I onlywanted their good-will and belief in me, and this I knew neither ofthem could honestly give me. The Dad implored me to let him assist me;they both begged me to live at home until I could rely upon myself, feel my own feet, or lastly, the most fatal sentence they could haveuttered in my state of pride, to remain at home until I realised the_failure_ I was about to make and alter my mind. 

"What a hopeless and silly thing is pride. It must be a dangerousthing, too, if it can suddenly choke years of love and devotion. 

"Pride was uppermost then when I left the house where we had all beenso happy, and went out into the world, and I told them both I wouldonly return when I had made myself famous, and not before. I believethey both broke down when I left, but I was a selfish young brute, andI never saw their view of things, nor how bitterly it must have hurtthem. Retribution was not long in coming; I found as time went on thatthere were dozens of men, and women too, who could write better than Icould. I found a living was not easy to get. I went even furtherstill, and found at last that it was impossible to get any living atall. Education--there were hundreds of men, highly educated men, too, without any means of earning a living. Inspiration--and I had pratedabout inspiration often enough; inspiration only became inspirationwhen it was recognised as such. Luck, chance--I found there were nosuch things, save as words. Money--I never made any now, and graduallyI went down and down, grew shabby, was passed hurriedly by friends ofmy own choosing; then followed shabby rooms and little food, only togive place in turn to an attic and no food at all. Pride must havebeen still at work with a vengeance, for whatever I suffered there wasnot a single day or night that I could not have rushed home and beenwelcomed like the Prodigal of old, and been rejoiced over. But thevery idea of this gave me a chill feeling of horror. How could I gohome with all my boasts unfulfilled? Was I to creep home aself-confessed failure, with the alternative of acknowledging it andmending my ways and becoming the head of a business firm with a heartembittered for life? I felt I would never do this. I would prefer tostarve upon the Embankment, and when I made that resolution I knew onlytoo well what I was in for. I had done the same thing in my earlierlife, only it needed a far greater courage to face that life now thanit required then. Things were at their very worst when one day, as Iwas wending my way through the poverty-stricken locality in which Ilived, I was hailed by my name. The man was shabbily dressed, butabout my own age as far as I could gather, yet I never rememberedhaving met him before. 

"'You don't remember me?' he asked. 

"'No, ' I replied. 

"'Humph!' he rejoined, 'and yet at school you had quite a slap-up fightupon my behalf, which ought to have been a lesson to snobs in general, simply because I insisted upon talking to my own father when he wasdriving one of his own furniture vans. '

"'Murkel Minor, ' I murmured. 'Jove, yes, I remember. '

"'Well, I'm a dealer now, got a place of my own, first-class antiques, you know, doing rather well, too. '

"I nodded. 

"'But, I say, how about yourself? you don't look up to much. What areyou doing? You know all the swell chaps at school, who always lookeddown on me, used to think you would do no end of things. '

"Somehow or other a sudden feeling of utter frankness came over me. 'Iam not doing anything, ' I said. 'I've never done anything, and I don'tbelieve now I ever shall do anything. '

"'What are you supposed to do?' asked Murkel, and he asked it in rathera nice way. 

"'Writing, ' I said. 

"'Books?'

"'Yes, and stories, and any blessed thing that comes along; that is tosay, when it _does_ come along. '

"Murkel mused for awhile as we walked along, and to this day I do notknow whether he considered he was paying off an old debt, or whether hereally required my services. Anyway he told me he wanted a descriptivecatalogue written of some of his best antiques, their historyguaranteed and authenticated, and that he would pay me a fair sum forwriting it. 

"I left my one-time schoolfellow Murkel Minor, with the certainty ofwork for which I should be paid, and with something like a ray of hope, and oddly enough I did not lament over the strange fortune which hadprevented any one from accepting any of my books or poems, but hadgiven me instead the writing of a catalogue of bric-à-brac. There wasone thing I often resented in my own mind, and frequently sneered atmost bitterly whenever I remembered it; that was the fact that Lal hadprophesied that I should become great, and also that I should meet DickWhittington. Both these imaginary things I regarded now as beingutterly unreliable, and looked upon as two ghostly myths of the past. I might have known better. The nervousness from which I suffered, andwhich I have already alluded to, was becoming so marked that it greatlystood in my way, particularly whenever I had any writing to do. Iwould fidget, bite my fingers, nibble the pen, break the nibs, athousand things sooner than deliberately sit down to write. Concentration seemed at times to me wholly impossible. One day, aftersacrificing many nibs, and breaking my only ink-bottle, I settled downsufficiently to finish Murkel's catalogue, and received the sum of fivepounds for the work. It seemed untold riches to me at the time. As Iwent homeward through the maze of dirty streets towards where my garretwas situated, I had to pass through one where the outside pavementstalls were always heaped up upon either side of the way with everyimaginable thing from greengrocery and scrap-iron to old prints andchina-ware. 

"Upon one of these stalls an inkstand immediately attracted myattention, partly from the fact that I had broken my own ink-bottle, and had resolved to buy another, but more particularly because thisinkstand appeared to me to be one of the most uncommon receptacles forink I had ever seen. It was made in what I judged must be some oldform of china-ware I never remembered to have seen before, and beneaththe dirt which was thickly coated over it I could see that both themodelling and colouring of it were very beautiful. It represented afigure lying upon the ground beside a big tree-stump, which, after themud should be scraped out of it, was evidently intended to contain ink, and a milestone, when a similar operation had taken place, woulddoubtless contain one pen; a coloured three-cornered hat flung besidethe figure upon the ground was obviously designed to hold a taper. 

"The inkstand attracted me strangely, and I was so fascinated with itthat I could not take my eyes off it. The woman to whom the stallbelonged, doubtless spotting a likely customer, asked me how much Iwould give her for it. I deliberated for some time, as I had not theremotest idea what its value might be in her eyes, so I offered hereighteenpence as a sort of compromise between the inkstand and otherarticles ticketed upon her stall. 

"'Give us two bob, and it's yours, ' suggested the stall woman. However, I was firm, and was upon the point of going away when shecalled me back, and thrust it into my hand, carefully holding on to oneof the square corners of it until she saw the money safely deposited. 

"It took me some time to clean it properly when I got it home, but Imust say it fully rewarded all the efforts I made to wash it, andsomehow the more I looked at it the more beautiful I thought it was. 

"There was something about that contemplative figure lying upon thegrass that gave me confidence and reassurance, and I found myselfregarding it as an old friend and talking to it, and when the bigtree-stump was filled with ink I used to sit and write from it forhours. There always seemed to be encouragement and inquiry in thelaughing face that looked from the figure on the inkstand, as if itwere saying, 'Well, what are you going to write now, and when are yougoing to finish it?' I began to imagine that it gave me inspirationwhenever I wrote; whether that was so or not, it certainly answeredmuch better than its predecessor, the dull old ink-bottle that had beenbroken. 

"So day by day I worked hard, and somehow became convinced that thewonderful little inkstand helped and inspired me in some curious mannerwhich I could in no way account for, and after a few months I finishedmy book, eking out a scanty existence with other odd literary jobs. Itwas about this time that Murkel called on me. 

"He stumbled up the winding stairs to my garret one day, smoking aquite objectionable pipe, and declared that I was the only oldschoolfellow he had ever cared to call upon, as all the rest weresnobs, and wound up by stating that we probably got along so welltogether as he came from the people, and he was certain that I camefrom the people also, and only those people who came from the peoplethemselves ever got there eventually. 

"After I had listened patiently to this harangue he came to the pointby declaring he was a great friend of a publisher who sometimes boughtthe Murkel curios, furniture, china, pictures, etc. , and if I liked hewould get him to read my new book. 

"I was only too thankful to accept this offer, and was saying so when acurious thing happened. Murkel, whose eyes had been roaming around myone attic room with the curious instinct of the dealer, and findingnothing that in any way interested him, suddenly crossed over to myrickety writing-table, and pouncing upon my inkstand emitted a low andprolonged whistle which might have been emblematical of eitherastonishment or delight. 

"'Don't drop that inkstand, ' I said. 'I'm very fond of that. '

"'Drop it!' almost shouted Murkel, 'drop it! Great Scott, do you know_what_ it is?'

"'Yes, ' I said, 'of course, it's an ink-stand. '

"Murkel looked at me almost pityingly. 'Oh, my great aunt, ' he said, 'the ways of writers are beyond understanding. Here's one who lives ina garret, probably hasn't enough to eat, and upon a ricketythree-legged writing-table, which would be a disgrace to a fifth-ratecoffee-house, he has a jewel worth a hundred guineas and more. '

"'Bosh! you're joking, ' I retorted. 

"Murkel gave a queer smile. 'Am I?' he said. 'Well, I am prepared togo back to my place and write you a cheque for a hundred guineas forthis, now on the spot. '

"I suppose I still continued to stare at him stupidly, and most likelythe signs of my utter disbelief were plainly to be seen in mycountenance, for Murkel continued hurriedly--

"'It's my business, I never make a mistake. This inkstand is Old Bowchina, date--early Queen Anne. My friend, there are not five of theseleft in the world to-day, there are not four, and this is probably themost perfect one in existence; and what makes it so valuable, apartfrom its glaze, is that it was done by a fine artist, and it is afamous legendary figure perfectly executed. In fact, it is none otherthan the famous Dick Whittington. '

"'What!' It was my turn to shout this time. 'Dick Whittington!' Icried. 

"'Of course, ' said Murkel; 'Dick Whittington, only done in the costumeof Queen Anne's day instead of his own. '

"'Then it is all true, ' I shouted. 'By Jove, what a fool I've been; Isee it all now, every bit of it. Oh, Lal! Lal! how impossible you areto understand. ' Of course, this was all so much Greek to Murkel, whohadn't the remotest idea what I was so excited about; but he wasthoroughly convinced that I meant to jump at his offer, and he thoughtI was merely madder than usual when I told him that I wouldn't sellDick Whittington for five thousand pounds if he offered it to me. 

"Murkel replaced Dick Whittington regretfully upon the rickety tableand sighed deeply. 

"'I suppose, ' he said, 'that some forms of mental derangement areinseparable from some writers. The annoying part of it is that Iwanted this piece for my own cabinet. If I had bought it I shouldnever have sold it again. Well, if you want money, you know where toget it, old chap. '

"'I do, ' I replied, 'and I have as good as found it in an unexpectedquarter. ' I took up the MSS. Of the new book, lying upon the ricketytable actually in front of Dick Whittington. 

"'I will prophesy to you, ' I said, 'and although it is a second-handsort of prophecy it is going to come true nevertheless. You see thismanuscript; this is going to make the first lot of money. '

"Murkel looked at me curiously. Do what he would the poor chap couldnot rid his mind of the thought that I was mad, but I will say he wasvery patient with me. 

"'Give me the introduction to your publisher friend, and I will bet youa dinner, or two dinners, he accepts this as a start, and most probablyeverything else I write afterwards. '

"'Of course, ' debated Murkel, 'you are a very amazing person. I meetyou one day and you swear that nobody ever wants anything you do, andis never likely to want any of your work again; and then a few daysafter, without rhyme or reason, you swear they will take everything, even the things you haven't written. I don't pretend to consider youat all sane, but I am prepared to tackle the publishers for you; and, by Jove, you are really eccentric enough to have done something reallygood, so you may be right. But I cannot and will not understand whyyou cannot take a hundred guineas down for that little DickWhittington. '

"'Do you believe in mascots, Murkel?' I asked. 

"'Yes, ' he said. 'I've got a black cat in the shop that always sits ona big Chinese idol whenever I have any luck. I don't know what it is, but the combination of my black cat Timps and that Chinese idol isextraordinary, and the greatest mascot I know. '

"Well, I told him that my mascots were a lion and the china DickWhittington. 

"'Where's the lion?' asked Murkel, always on the look-out for curios. 

"'Oh, that is at present in a collection, ' I told him, at the same timefervently hoping that Lal would forgive me for ever referring to him asbeing in a collection, for I knew the feeling of majestic tolerationwith which he regarded the other three lions. 

"Very little more remains to be told, except that the person who wasmost astonished when my first book was instantly accepted was Murkel, and his astonishment appeared to greatly increase as each of mysucceeding books made their appearance in print, whilst to-day is oneof the red-letter days of my life, for the most important of all mybooks was published this morning, and so it is all doubtless intendedto form part of to-day's story; and, by the way, so is to-day's tea. "

 * * * * *

"Ridgwell, would you ring the bell for the housekeeper? I have orderedall the sort of cakes you and Christine like best. "

"I think it is a more wonderful story than Dick Whittington's, "commented Ridgwell, as he rang the bell; "but before we have tea, we doso want to see the little china Dick Whittington which made all yourstory come true, and which is worth such a lot of money. "

"You shall both see him presently, but at the present moment DickWhittington is safely packed up; he is going to be given away thisevening with a copy of my new book. "

"Given away?" echoed the children blankly. 

The Writer nodded. 

"I can't make out how you can bear to part with it, " suggestedRidgwell; "I know I would never give it away. Who is it for?"

"You will both see presently; and really, you know, if you come toconsider it, it is not of any use giving anybody something one does notcare for, for that is not a gift at all. "

"It seems jolly hard to part with the one thing you like best, "observed Ridgwell. 

The Writer laughed. "Ah! Ridgwell, that is the only kind of giftworth giving in the world. "

CHAPTER VII

THE LION MAKES HIS SIGN

Tea was finished, the remains of it were cleared away, and the heavycurtains drawn over the big windows overlooking Trafalgar Square. Having turned on all the electric lights he could find, the Writer ledRidgwell and Christine by either hand towards the door. 

"The Lord Mayor has arrived, " he whispered, "I can hear him coming upthe stairs. Now as he comes into the door let us all bow down with alow curtsey, and say, 'Welcome, Sir Simon Gold, Lord Mayor of London. '"

"Bless him, he is still puffing up the stairs, " whispered the Writer, "so we shall have time to rehearse it once before he gets here. Nowthen, all together, " urged the Writer. "That's fine; why, you childrenmake obeisance better than I do, but of course I was forgetting you hadboth been to the Pleasant-Faced Lion's party. That must, of course, have been an education in itself. Now then, get ready. "

Outside somebody who was puffing and panting somewhat heavily could beheard exclaiming between these exertions in a cheery voice: "Goodgracious me, why ever does the boy live in such a place? These stairswill be the death of me; positively fifty of them if there is one. Really at my time of life it is most unreasonable; he ought to have alift put in, I will make it my business to see he doesn't live up herein the clouds any longer, whether he always wants to see Lal or whetherhe doesn't. "

The Writer grinned at the children, and Ridgwell and Christine gave afaint chuckle by way of an answer. At last the door was flung open andthe pleasantest-faced old gentleman it would be possible to findanywhere, with round pink cheeks, merry eyes, a snowy white upturnedmoustache and white hair to match, peering through big gold-rimmedspectacles like a cheerful night-owl, stood in the doorway. 

Thereupon the three people inside the room bobbed down in a mostprofound curtesy, and there was a perfectly timed and simultaneouschorus from three voices, "Welcome, Sir Simon Gold, Lord Mayor ofLondon. "

"Bless my soul, " said the Lord Mayor, "very impressive, upon my word;but as His Majesty the King has only knighted me twenty minutes ago, how on earth did you come to hear of it?"

"Magic, " said the Writer. "Besides, Lal prophesied the event. "

"Who are the children?" asked the Lord Mayor. 

"Friends of Lal's and myself, " replied the Writer, "and very anxious tosee you in your robes. "

"They are all in this bag, " vouchsafed the Mayor, "and it may be vanityupon my part, but I brought them up on purpose to stand in front of thewindow so that Lal could have a good look at them and see the effect ofhis own handiwork. And now, you rascal, " demanded the Lord Mayor ofthe Writer as he helped himself to a comfortable chair, "what excuseshave you got to give me for not coming near either Mum or myself forages, and for taking up your abode in this absurdly high flat which isas bad as mounting the Monument?"

"I have my excuses all labelled and wrapped up, Dad, and you and Mummust accept them when you have looked at them. "

Thereupon the Writer fished out of the mysterious odd-fashionedcupboard two packets very neatly done up, and placed them in the handsof genial old Sir Simon. 

The old gentleman opened the first packet with evident pleasure; it wasa well-bound book fresh from the printer's press. 

"Open it, Dad, and see whom it is dedicated to, " suggested the Writer;"you will find it upon the first page. "

"Beautiful, " murmured the old gentleman, whilst his hands trembledslightly as he held the book and read out, "Dedicated to my dear Dad, to whom I owe everything--created Lord Mayor of the City of London inthe year----"

The old gentleman coughed and wiped his spectacles carefully, and evensuspiciously, for they appeared to be quite misty. "Oh, you bad boy, "he burst out unexpectedly. "How dare you write books and becomefamous, when you ought to have been sitting upon a stool behind a glasspartition as a junior partner in my counting-house? However, I believeLal was right, he usually is; he said we should disagree, and that theyoungest one would be in the right, and upon my word, my dear boy, Inever believed how very right he was until to-day. Bless me, I'm proudof you. "

"And I'm proud of you, Dad, " was the Writer's answer. 

"Goodness alive, " declared the old man, as he turned and beamed uponRidgwell and Christine by turns, "do you children know, those were thevery words this rascal here used sixteen years ago, when he deposited alot of ridiculous prizes that nobody ever wanted to read in my lap whenI was asleep in front of the fire in my library. Bless me, historydoes repeat itself. "

"And prophecies come true, " added the Writer. 

"Tut, tut, " said Sir Simon, "there was one prophecy our friend Lal madethat never came true. How about that absurd statement of his that youwould find Dick Whittington? That was all a lot of riddle-me-ree, asyou may say, thrown in like the cheap-jack's patter to mystify all ofus. "

"You haven't opened the second parcel, " quietly remarked the Writer;"but when I read in some of the papers three years ago that you hadstarted collecting valuable old china, I always determined you shouldhave this piece. "

"It all sounds very mysterious, " replied the old gentleman, as hegingerly prepared to take off the outside wrappings. 

It was at this point that Ridgwell could contain himself no longer, forhe felt as if he were present upon a Christmas Day before the giftswere opened. 

"It's worth more than a hundred guineas, " shouted Ridgwell. 

"Then it is simply disgraceful extravagance, " replied Sir Simon, "and Ishall certainly not accept it. "

"I am sure you will, " ventured Christine, "it is the thing that hevalues most of anything he has got. "

The last wrapping was undone, and the beautifully coloured and modelledDick Whittington was disclosed to view. There was not even a spot ortrace of ink anywhere upon his enamelled coat, the tree-stump, themilestone or the three-cornered hat, he had been washed and cleaned forthe cabinet with a vengeance, and looked as beautiful and as spick andspan as the day the artist had turned him out to an admiring world. 

"Bless my heart!" exclaimed Sir Simon, as he viewed the treasure withthe keen admiration of a connoisseur. "Why, it is perfect; I don'tbelieve there is another one in existence like it. Where did you getit, and who is it meant to be?"

"Why, Dick Whittington, of course, Dad; so you see Lal was right afterall. "

Sir Simon placed the little figure carefully upon the table, andfolding his hands regarded the Writer severely. "Do you happen to knowthat it was this particular piece of Lal's nonsense that has worried memore than anything else all these years?"

"It worried me for a long time until I found out his trick, " confessedthe Writer. 

"Yes, but mine is a most disheartening story, " declared Sir Simon, "andnearly succeeded in alienating me from all my friends; and as for Mum, I dare not so much as mention Lal's name to her for fear of having mynose snapped off; she never did and never will believe in him, declaresthat the whole thing is a preposterous lot of nonsense, and declineseven to discuss the subject with me at all. You know, my dear boy, that Mum is very sensible upon other points, but about Lal she isopenly scornful and secretly adamantine; in fact, the mere mention ofLal is like poison to her, and he was entirely responsible for the onlydifference we have ever had in our married lives. "

"Light a cigar, Dad, before you start; and what will you have by way ofa drink?"

The Writer had opened other compartments in the mysterious old oakcabinet that seemed to possess more doors than a Chinese temple. 

"These Coronas I remembered you used to smoke, so I got some. "

"Excellent, " declared Sir Simon, "and, let me see, why, bless me what alot of bottles you have there. I hope you don't drink them all. Someof that green stuff, my dear boy, if you please, Crème-de-Menthe; yes, I think a couple of liqueurs of that would be most beneficial to meafter the most indigestible banquet we all partook of at the MansionHouse to-day. The stuff is largely made up of peppermint, I'm sure;and, of course, peppermint, when it is tastily got up like thisliqueur, is very good for indigestion, isn't it?"

The Writer lighted the old gentleman's cigar, and placing theCrème-de-Menthe upon the table, filled a tiny liqueur glass to the brim. 

"Of course, " commenced Sir Simon, "from the very first nothing wouldinduce Mum to believe that the Pleasant-Faced Lion, our old friend Lal, ever had anything to do with my life, or ever influenced me in any way. You know, my boy, it is one of women's weaknesses to invariably believethat they do more than they really do. She declared that everything inmy life was owing to your influence and to hers. "

"Mine?" asked the Writer in astonishment. 

"So Mum always insisted, and so she always undoubtedly believed, andwhen the time came that you ran away, --yes, you dog, for you did runaway, don't deny it, --well, what with sorrow for the loss of you, andtrouble with your mother, for she declared I had driven you from homeby not encouraging you to write, and women are most illogical andunreasonable when they once get a fixed idea into their heads, --well, between one and the other of you I had a very bad time. The factremained that you were gone, never gave us any address, and I got allthe blame for it. But the thing that annoyed Mum more than anythingelse was my everlasting habit of going to the Pantomimes. "

The Writer laughed. "Well, I never knew before, Dad, that Pantomimeswere a special weakness of yours. "

"Neither were they, my boy, but as sure as ever Christmas came, and theinevitable Pantomimes also, so did I go to every one; not only inLondon, but every city of the United Kingdom. " Here Sir Simon, as ifovercome with emotion, groaned aloud. "My boy, pity me; I believe I amthe only person still alive who has ever sat out every single Pantomimethat has been written for ten years, and oh! what twaddle they were. "

"But what on earth did you go to them for?" asked the Writer, aghast. 

"To find you. "

"Me? Good heavens, at a Pantomime? Dad, were you dreaming?"

"Yes, " answered old Sir Simon, shaking his white head at therecollection. "I was dreaming of what Lal had prophesied--that youwould make your name and fortune when you met Dick Whittington, andthen you would come back to us. And the more I thought of it, the moreI was convinced that there was only one possible way of meeting DickWhittington in the world to-day, and that would be when some lady--andthey were always ladies, plain, fair, ugly, tall, lean, fat, pretty--who appeared as that character--met you whilst impersonatingDick. You rascal, I believed that you would meet one of these femaleDick Whittingtons, would ever after write the rubbishy Pantomimes inwhich she appeared every Christmas season, train up your children to bePantaloons and Harlequins, and have the audacity to appeal to me tokeep the family after having christened the eldest child after me. There is not one single lady, " continued the Lord Mayor, as he moppedthe perspiration from his face, "from here to Aberdeen, and back toLiverpool and Manchester, who has ever played Dick Whittington that Ihave not treated to either port wine or champagne (for those were therefreshments they all seemed to favour most) in the hope of findingyou; I have spent more than ten times the reputed worth of that DickWhittington inkstand, in railway fares and buying stalls andprogrammes. Yet the worst of all to relate is, that when Mum saw theprogrammes underlined upon my return, she accused me of being enamouredof these extraordinary ladies who stalked the stage in the mostindescribable costumes, accompanied by cats. My boy, I know everyridiculous speech, every stupid gag spoken by every Lord Mayor in allthose Pantomimes by heart, and the one dread of my life is that I shallone day come out with some of it in one of my speeches at either theGuildhall or the Mansion House. "

The Writer lay back in his chair and roared with laughter. 

"Poor old Dad, I had no idea you were undergoing such an awful penance!"

"You think it funny, do you?" asked the Lord Mayor indignantly. 

"I think it is the funniest thing I have ever heard, but I am sure thatall the blame rests with Lal for playing us such a trick. "

"Humph! Well, Mum didn't think so, and every time Christmas came therewas a coldness between us. Perhaps she will be convinced when I takeher this inkstand and explain what it is, " wound up Sir Simontriumphantly; "she will believe in Lal then, and believe in me at thesame time. "

Some two hours later Ridgwell and Christine, having viewed the LordMayor in his state robes, were safely despatched home in a carriagewith the Writer's housekeeper in charge, but not before old Sir Simonhad promised to send one of his state coaches, attended by servants inlivery, to fetch them to the Mansion House Children's Ball. 

Upon taking his departure, Ridgwell had inquired most particularly ifthe state coach would drive up to their door for them. The Lord Mayorassured him that this would be the case. 

"I believe, " declared Ridgwell, as he said good-bye and made hisdeparture, "that all the neighbours will believe we have something todo with fairies. "

"I shouldn't wonder, " chuckled Sir Simon, "and I will get the LadyMayoress to send you both two costumes that will help the illusionenormously. "

"I do wonder what they will be like, " mused Christine; "I do so lovedressing up. "

"So does the Lady Mayoress, my dear, " laughed Sir Simon, "so I am sureboth of you will get on capitally together, and really she is the lifeand soul of a children's gathering. I don't know how I should get onwithout her. "

"It certainly seems very strange, " remarked Sir Simon, when at lengthhe and the Writer were left alone, "that Lal has not given any sort ofsign; this is undoubtedly the night of all nights that he ought to showhe is pleased. "

Sir Simon helped himself to a third cigar, and a secondCrème-de-Menthe, and after drawing back the curtains, looked anxiouslydown into Trafalgar Square for at least the twentieth time that evening. 

The lights of London twinkled gaily, lighting the Square up infairy-like brilliancy of colours. Signs were to be seen in plenty;they burst from the tall roofs of houses, in coloured electric lights, which worked out advertisements for Foods, Patent Medicines, brands ofCigarettes, brands of Whisky; nearly everything, in fact, that onecould not be reasonably in need of at that time of night; but still thePleasant-Faced Lion remained obdurate and made no sign at all of everhaving been alive. 

"There is one thing that both Mum and I insist upon, " commenced SirSimon. 

"What's that, Dad?"

"Directly we leave the Mansion House, and I may say at once thatalthough it is undoubtedly very stately, and all that sort of thing, weneither of us feel at home there, and for my part, I would as soon livein the British Museum--directly we leave, I insist that you come backto your old home and live with us, and complete the old happy party wethree used to make. "

"All right, Dad, I'll do that, I promise you. "

"And now that you have made a name and fortune for yourself in spite ofmy doing everything I could to prevent you----"

"No, no, Dad, that isn't fair, and really, you know, I don't believe wecould help ourselves, everything has come about exactly as Lal arrangedit. "

"I am very angry with Lal and his tricks, and if I thought he wouldlisten to me for one minute, I would go down now and--Good graciousalive!" broke off Sir Simon, as he stared somewhat wildly out of thewindow; "what's that?"

"What's what?" inquired the Writer inconsequently, from his easy-chairat the other end of the room. 

Sir Simon rubbed his eyes, then he looked out of the window again, thenhe rubbed his spectacles in case by any chance they were deceiving him. 

"My dear boy, " faltered Sir Simon, "is that--is'that--ahem!--Crème-de-Menthe you gave me exceptionally strong by anychance?"

"No, same as it always is, Dad; why?"

"Then I'm not mistaken, Lal's eyes have gone a _bright_ green, the samecolour as the liqueur in that bottle. Green, " shouted Sir Simon, "andthey are blazing like fireworks. Look! look at them. "

The Writer rushed across the room to the window. 

There could be no doubt about it that the calm eyes of thePleasant-Faced Lion, which were wont to gaze haughtily upon the morecommonplace things around him in Trafalgar Square, had suddenly changedto the colour of living emeralds, and were terrible to behold. 

"Great Scott!" muttered the astonished Writer, "I have never seen himlook like that. He's angry about something. "

"He's more than angry--he's furious, " suggested the Lord Mayornervously. "What on earth can be the reason of it? Why, yes, I see. Why, how dare she!" spluttered Sir Simon. "There's a woman dancing, positively waltzing round the Square with his wreath of water-lilies Iput there for him! I'll stop her, she must bring it back at once. "

Without another word, Sir Simon rushed for the door and downstairs withthe most surprising speed, followed closely by the Writer, whoconsidered his old friend ought not to be deserted upon such a mission. 

"Ho! hi! stop thief, " puffed the Lord Mayor, as he toiled three partsround Trafalgar Square after the corybantic lady, who was dancing onahead with the huge wreath held with both arms, swaying over her, asshe danced a sort of bacchanal in front of the enraged Sir Simon. 

"Hi!" panted the Lord Mayor, as after frantic efforts he camealongside. "Woman, bring that wreath back at once; how dare you takeit away!"

"Oh, go on, ole dear, " retorted the lady good-humouredly; "ain't itmaking me much 'appier than an old lion? Why, bless you, it put me inmind of the days when I used to play Alice in Pantomimes. Lead, I usedto play, once, yes, s'welp me if I wasn't. What 'arm am I a-doing?Oh, look 'ere, if you're going to get snuffy, 'ere, take your olewreath. I'm blowed if you don't look as if you come out of a Pantomimeyourself, in them red robes! 'Ave yer been playing in a Pantomime?"

"Certainly not, " replied Sir Simon, somewhat stiffly. 

"Why, now I sees the light on your face, I knows you quite well; 'ow doyer do, ole sport? I'm Alice; don't you remember little Alice in thePantomime of Dick Whittington ten years ago at Slocum Theatre Royal?Why, you gave me a bouquet, and stood me two glasses of port. "

The Lord Mayor groaned. 

"Little Alice, " he queried vaguely; "let me see, little Alice?"

"Yes, " averred the lady, who must have weighed fully eighteen stone, "shake hands, old pal. "

The Lord Mayor felt thoroughly uncomfortable, more particularly as theWriter joined him at that moment. 

"Ahem! an old Pantomime friend, " explained Sir Simon. 

"Yes, my dears, " continued the lady, "and I don't get no Pantomimesnow, been 'ard up, I 'ave, for a long time, can't even get chorus now;but bless your 'earts! coming along to-night, when I gets to TrafalgarSquare, I somehow could 'ave declared I saw that there Lion a-laughingat me, and then when I sees the wreath, blessed if I didn't want todance once again all of a sudden. Look 'ere, old sport, you used tohave plenty of the shinies in the old days, you used to chuck the 'oofabout a bit; I remember you was a-looking for some bloke whowrote--that you had an idea in your 'ead all us girls wanted to marry. "

The distressed Lord Mayor fumbled in his pockets and produced twosovereigns. 

"Thank you, ole dear, " observed the lady, as she pocketed the gold withalacrity, "you was always one of the best; and Cissie Laurie, that'sme, you know--Cissie--who used to play Alice, will always swear you area tip-top clipper. Lor! when I sees you in them robes, and you ain'ttold me yet why you've got 'em on----

"An inadvertency, " stuttered the Lord Mayor; "most unfortunate. "

"Well, when I sees you in them robes it puts me in mind of the dear oldPantomime, when little Alice flings herself at the Lord Mayor's feet, "and here, overcome with past recollections of the drama, the fat ladysunk upon her knees, and dramatically clasping the robes of Sir Simon, to that worthy old gentleman's utter confusion and consternation, atthe same time gave forth aloud the doggerel lines that had onceaccompanied the incident in the play--

 "Oh! Dad, I'm your Alice, in whom you're disappointed, And here is Dick Whittington, whose nose was out-of-jointed, Though your heart be as cold as an icicle king's, Forgive us and say we are nice 'ikkle things. "

"Oh, hush! hush! dreadful, " implored the Lord Mayor, endeavouring invain to extricate himself from the dramatic lady's clutches. 

At this moment a gruff judicial voice, which sent an immediate thrilldown the worthy Lord Mayor's back, broke in upon the scene. 

"Now, then, what's all this? Move on, there!"

A dark blue policeman stood in the pale blue moonlight. 

The Lord Mayor only shivered. 

The dramatic lady was equal to the occasion. 

"Aren't we a picture?" she asked coquettishly. 

"Get up, then, " commanded the policeman dryly, "and be a movin' one. "

"All right, don't get huffy, dear, we're professionals. "

"So I should think, " observed the policeman shortly. 

The Writer thought this a most propitious moment to seize the LordMayor by the arm, and hurry him in the direction of his own rooms, across the almost deserted centre of the Square, without waiting forany further conversation of any description. 

The policeman stared after them suspiciously as they moved away. 

"What's he doing in them things?" inquired the policeman of the lady. 

"Lor', 'ow should I know? I guess he's a good sort, though, he gave mesome money. "

"Oh, did he?" remarked the policeman in a sepulchral voice. "Well, Ihope he came by it honestly, that's all. "

"Oh, that old chap's all right, old tin-feet, " retorted the once timeLady of the Drama. "I only think 'e's a bit balmy in his 'ead, that'sall. So-long, I'm off 'ome!"

"Balmy in his head, eh?" grumbled the policeman gruffly. "Ah, Ithought there was a funny look about him; yes. Well, I had betterfollow him up, and see that he doesn't get up to no mischief of anysort. "

"I say, Dad, " suggested the Writer, "you had better let me carry thewreath, whilst you lake off those robes; you know they attract a lot ofattention, even at this time of night. "

"I am afraid they do, " confessed the Mayor. "What a dreadful anddegrading scene! That upsetting fragment of a pantomime enacted in theopen air, too, which is only a specimen of the stuff I was compelled tolisten to for so many years!"

"She evidently regarded you as an old friend, and a patron of thetheatre, " laughed the Writer, "without in any way guessing youridentity. "

"It was a terrible situation, " groaned the Lord Mayor; "however shall Ibe able to tell Mum about such an incident when I arrive home?"

The worthy Lord Mayor got no further either in his remarks or inremoving his bright robes, for as they approached the position occupiedby the Pleasant-Faced Lion, Sir Simon became aware of another figurestanding menacingly in front of it. 

A short, thick-set man in a sailor's dress was holding his hands to hishead, and regarding the Lion with his mouth and eyes wide open, whilstan expression of horrified wonder and astonishment appeared to havepetrified his face into a sort of ghastly mask of perpetualastonishment. 

Whilst the sailor continued to stare and mutter, the Lion's eyes couldbe seen to shoot out the most brilliant green fires; they looked likethe flashing of two wonderful green emeralds. 

The Lord Mayor quickened his pace almost to a run. "Look, look! what'sthe thing that man is flourishing about in his hand?"

"It's a big sailor's knife, " replied the Writer uneasily. 

"Quick, quick!" shouted the Lord Mayor, "he is going to do Lal someharm with it! Good heavens! he's swarmed up the pedestal and he ispositively contemplating cutting Lal's eyes out. Stop, you villain, "shouted the Lord Mayor, whilst he ran towards the spot. "Come down atonce; how dare you touch that beautiful Lion's eyes!"

Without so much as turning his head, and apparently heedless of anyremarks addressed to him, the sailor continued to flourish hisugly-looking knife, shouting meanwhile in the Lion's face as he did so--

"Emeralds, bloomin' emeralds here in London under my very nose. I'll'ave 'em out, " yelled the sailor. "I'll have 'em out in no time. I'vecome from Hindia, where they've got jools like these 'ere in thehidols' eyes. I couldn't get at them there, but I can get these 'ere, "whereupon the sailor made a frantic jab with his knife at thePleasant-Faced Lion's right eye. 

He had no time, or indeed any opportunity of continuing his unpleasantexecution, for the enraged Lord Mayor had seized the wide ends of thesailor's trousers and had dragged him down with such abruptness andgoodwill that the over-venturesome son of Neptune, dropping his knife, lay upon the ground volunteering expressions which at least had themerit of showing that his travels must have been indeed varied andextensive to have left him in possession of such a widely stockedvocabulary. 

"I'll have you up for attempting to mutilate the beautiful statues ofLondon, " shouted the enraged Lord Mayor. 

The Writer restrained the sailor's more or less ineffectual efforts toget at the Lord Mayor, but the Writer found it singularly impossible tocontrol the shouted execrations of that abusive mariner, among a few ofwhose remarks could be mentioned, by way of sample, that he wanted toknow why an old bloke dressed like an etcetera Mephistopheles meant bycoming along from a blighted Covent Garden Ball and interfering withhim; that if he, the mariner, could once get atthe--ahem!--Mephistopheles in question, he would never go to a fancyball again as long as he lived, as he would not have a head to go with, and his legs wouldn't ever be any use to him again as long as he lived. 

The Writer being sufficiently athletically active to control, or at anyrate postpone, these amiable intentions of the mariner, the Lord Mayorwas afforded a few brief seconds to climb up and examine his favourite. Flinging the wreath of water-lilies around the Lion's mane to get itout of the way, the Lord Mayor clasped his old favourite Lal round theneck, uttering words of consolation and affection. 

The Lion's eyes had changed from their bright emerald colour to a dulltopaz yellow, which in turn subsided to their wonted colouring duringthe Lord Mayor's affectionate address. 

The countenance of the Lion gradually resumed its ordinarypleasant-faced expression, and two large tears fell upon the LordMayor's outstretched hands. 

The worthy Lord Mayor was quite overcome with emotion at this obvioussign from the Pleasant-Faced Lion!

"Dear old Lal, " murmured the Lord Mayor, "dear, faithful, loving soul, these are the first tears I have ever known you shed. Are they tearsof gratitude because we have rescued you from this ruffian with aknife, who would have destroyed your noble sight? Or are they tears ofpity? Speak to me, Lal; if they are tears of pity, they will open thegates of----"

"A police station, " interrupted a cold, judicial voice, and the goodLord Mayor turned to find what the Writer, although fully occupied withthe mariner, had seen approaching with consternation and alarm, thesame policeman who had spoken to them before, followed by a small crowdof late night loafers, who were already starting to exchange remarksand jeer at the somewhat unusual scene. 

"Just you come down, " said the constable, in his severest and mostjudicial tones. 

The Lord Mayor prepared to climb down, looking somewhat crestfallen, whilst the unsympathetic crowd uttered a faint, ironical cheer. 

"This is the second time to-night I have spoken to you, " said theconstable. "Now, as you have been behaving most strangely andattracting a crowd, I'll just trouble you for your name and address, "and the constable unfolded an uncomfortable-looking pocket-book, boundin an ominous-looking black case, produced the stump of a pencil andprepared to take notes. "Now then, out with it, what's your name?"

"Gold, " faltered the Lord Mayor, fumbling vainly for a visiting card, which he was unable to find. 

The stolid constable misunderstood the action. "No, you don't bribeme, " said the constable loftily. 

"I was not attempting to, " objected the Lord Mayor. 

"Well, what's your name, then?"

"Gold, " repeated the Lord Mayor. 

"Oh, I see, " muttered the constable; "what else?"

"Simon Gold. "

"What else?" pursued the remorseless officer of the law. 

"Sir Simon Gold, " groaned the helpless Lord Mayor. 

"What address?"

"The Mansion House. "

"Here, I don't want none of your jokes, " vouchsafed the constablesternly; "this is no joking matter, as you will find out when you'recharged afore the magistrate. "

The worthy Sir Simon's plump cheeks flushed red with anger at the baremention of such an indignity. "How dare you suggest such a thing tome?" spluttered Sir Simon. "Do you know who I am? I am the Lord Mayorof London. "

This remark was greeted with a loud cheer from the rapidly gatheringcrowd. 

The constable smiled a maddening smile. 

"A likely tale, " observed the constable. "Why, I was present keepingthe crowd off when his Worship, the Lord Mayor of London, opened hisHome to-day; he returned hours ago; and I think myself it's some sortof Home as you have got to return to, and I don't leave you until Ifind out which Home it is. "

Whether the mention of the word Home suggested sudden possibilities tothe Writer, or whether, like Ulysses of old, he longed so ardently fora return to that blissful abode that he even stooped to emulate thesort of stratagem Ulysses might have adopted in similar circumstanceswill never be known. Yet the fact remains that the Writer turned thefortunes of war for the time being. 

He drew the constable quickly upon one side and spoke rapidly andearnestly to him for some moments. At the end of these whisperedexplanations the constable closed his pocket-book with a snap, andpointed across the way in the direction of the Writer's chambers. 

The Writer nodded. 

The constable touched his forehead significantly at the side of hishelmet. 

Once again the Writer nodded. 

"Very well, " said the constable, "if you are the one who looks afterhim, you can go; better get him home as quickly as you can. "

Amidst a parting ironical cheer the Writer hastily seized the worthyLord Mayor by the arm and broke through the assembled crowd with allpossible speed. 

As they passed upon their way one small incident, however, caused theWriter grave misgiving. 

A tall man who had undoubtedly watched the whole proceeding nodded tohim and remarked sarcastically, as he passed--

"Good-night; a really most interesting and illuminating episode. "

Having safely gained his own abode, the Writer gazed apprehensively outof the window. 

The sailor could still be seen supporting himself against the pedestalof the Lion's statue, the policeman appeared to be engaged upon a newcrusade of note-taking. The small crowd was melting away, but thesinister face of the sarcastic man could be seen wreathed in a cynicalsmile of triumph. 

The Writer whistled, and drawing the curtains close, turned up theelectric light and anticipated the worst. 

The Lord Mayor sank into the most comfortable chair he could select, and helped himself to a drink; he felt he needed one badly at thatmoment. 

"What a dreadful and degrading scene, " lamented Sir Simon. "Goodgracious, if anybody had seen me who recognised me, I should never haveheard the last of it. "

The Writer lit a cigar thoughtfully, and passed the box to Sir Simon. 

"I am afraid, Dad, we never shall hear the last of it, " prophesied theWriter gloomily. 

"What do you mean?" inquired Sir Simon. 

"Did you notice that man who spoke to me at the edge of the crowd, whohad presumably seen the whole thing?"

"Of course not, " replied Sir Simon; "how on earth could I noticeanybody under such distressing circumstances? Who was he? what abouthim?"

"That was the famous Mr. Learnéd Bore. "

"What, the man who is always advertising himself?"

"Yes, " agreed the Writer, "and unfortunately he has the power to do sothrough the medium of the newspapers; his letters to London are one ofthe features of the Press, " added the Writer significantly. 

"Don't tell me, " entreated the Lord Mayor, with an imploring look inhis eyes, "that he will make me, the Lord Mayor of London, a subjectfor his heartless gibes. "

"He's certain to write two columns about it in one of to-morrow or thenext day's papers, " declared the Writer hopelessly. "Do you supposesuch a man would waste such material and copy as that for one of hissatirical eruptions?"

The Lord Mayor groaned aloud at the very thought of this new terror, which threatened to descend like the sword of Damocles and crush allthe joy of his new civic dignity. With trembling hands he folded hisbright robe and glittering chain of office; the Lord Mayor felt that hecould no longer bear the sight of them. 

"What on earth I can say to Mum for being out as late as this I don'tknow, " lamented the Mayor dolefully; "she will, of course, believe Ihave been to another Pantomime; she always taxes me with having gone toa Pantomime whenever I stay out late. However, " sighed the Mayor, "Ishall show her the Dick Whittington which has really been the cause ofall the trouble. "

It may have been that Sir Simon was still unusually agitated from thescene he had recently passed through, to say nothing of the vagueforeboding caused by the knowledge that Mr. Learnéd Bore mightconceivably do anything within the next few days. There is apossibility that his hand trembled; whatever may have been the cause, as Sir Simon lifted the little Dick Whittington from the table, he letit fall. As it crashed upon the hard polished floor it broke into adozen pieces, and the merry little figure of Dick Whittington washopelessly shattered. Sir Simon looked blankly at the Writer. 

The Writer looked blankly back at Sir Simon. 

As poor Sir Simon ruefully picked up the pieces, he looked disconsolateenough to be upon the verge of tears. The Writer, although keenlyaffected by the loss, tried, although unsuccessfully, to comfort him. 

"Never mind, Dad, it can't be helped, and I suppose Dick Whittingtonhas served his day. "

"To think I have broken the most perfect specimen in the world, " moanedSir Simon; "that you must have denied yourself greatly to give me, andto think I shall never be able to convince Mum now, or even mention it, for she wouldn't believe one word of the story. Besides, " wound up SirSimon, "it is so dreadfully unlucky to break china. Call me a cab, mydear boy, " implored the old gentleman, "a four-wheeler, if possible; Ireally dare not go home in a taxi, I feel some other dreadful accidentwould happen to me if I did. "

Upon his way home Sir Simon ruminated upon the events of the evening. He found himself unable to make up his mind which portion of theadventure had been the most discomforting to him. Finally, uponapproaching the Mansion House, he caught himself indulging inspeculation and uttering his thoughts aloud. 

"I wonder what possible story he could have told the policeman, to getme out of that dreadful situation so quickly; and I wonder, " mused SirSimon, "why the policeman tapped his head in that curious manner; hemust have told him something that appealed to him at once. I dare sayeven policemen have their feelings, and looking back upon matterscalmly, I suppose my conduct must perhaps have appeared a little out ofthe ordinary. However, if I ever come across that constable again, Imust try and make him a little present. "

Sir Simon little realised that he was to meet the constable again verysoon, and certainly never realised where, otherwise it is safe toassume that the good Sir Simon would never have slept the tranquilsleep he did that night, full of peaceful dreams, over which thePleasant-Faced Lion presided like the protecting guardian watch-dogthat the good Lord Mayor always believed him to be. 

CHAPTER VIII

AN UPSETTING ARTICLE IN THE MORNING PAPER

Some few mornings after the events just recorded the Lady Mayoress satdown to breakfast in one of the most cosy of the morning-rooms in theirprivate suite in the Mansion House. A very smart manservant of quitearistocratic appearance solemnly poured out some most fragrant coffee, and removed many covers from a most delicately appetisingbreakfast-table, as a preliminary to removing his aristocratic presencefrom the room altogether. There could be no doubt that the LadyMayoress was a singularly pretty and attractive lady, and despite herwell-dressed head of iron-grey hair, looked fully fifteen years youngerthan her age, which is invariably a pleasing reflection for a woman whohas passed the age of forty-five. 

The Lady Mayoress sipped her morning coffee, and in the absence of herhusband the Lord Mayor, who was late for breakfast on this occasion, unfolded the morning newspapers and started leisurely to peruse theircontents. 

The Lady Mayoress, being exceedingly popular, and having taken aprominent part in a number of social functions, like most women, wasnever averse to reading any paragraphs which might chance to mentionher sayings, doings, and, more particularly, her dress. The LadyMayoress read on; there appeared to be very little in the particularpaper she was perusing that interested her, so refolding it carefullythe Lady Mayoress selected another morning paper, and opening it, smiled as she read in big print, "Audacious attack by Mr. Learnéd Bore. "

"Ah!" commented the Lady Mayoress, "he certainly is a particularlyaudacious, as well as being a very naughty man, who makes fun ofeverything and everybody, but at least his articles and letters arealways amusing. " Thereupon the smiling lady gently stirred her coffee, folded the newspaper to the required place, and proceeded to enjoy Mr. Learnéd Bore's contribution to the morning journalism. 

Suddenly the little silver coffee spoon dropped from the LadyMayoress's hand, and she sat bolt upright in her chair as if she hadreceived a galvanic shock. At this inauspicious moment the Lord Mayormade his appearance, very jovial and full of happy morning greetings, mingled with pleasant apologies for being late. 

Something in the expression of his wife's face, however, gave theworthy Lord Mayor an uncomfortable, apprehensive sort of feeling, thecheerful flow of his morning remarks died away in little sentences, asif the promise of their young life had been cut short. 

The Lord Mayor chipped an egg nervously, and made a brave show ofgulping his coffee. 

"Well, Mum, you seem very interested in the morning paper, " observedSir Simon, with an assumption of hearty cheerfulness he was far fromfeeling. 

Something in the expression of Mum's face seemed to baffle allanalysis, as she continued to read without vouchsafing any answer. After a terrible pause the Lady Mayoress refolded the paper, and layingit upon the table, regarded her husband steadfastly with flushed faceand sparkling eyes. 

Sir Simon's heart seemed to sink into his boots. 

"I thought you distinctly told me, Simon, when you returned, at what Ican only describe as a most eccentric hour in the early morning, thatyou had been visiting an old friend. "

"Quite right, my dear, I assure you I had. I'm right upon that pointat any rate. "

"You told me you had not been to a Pantomime, " continued his wife, heedless of the interruption. 

"No, my dear, --no Pantomime, I assure you; I never entered a theatre ora building of any such description. "

"Apparently not, " came the icy reply; "the Pantomime in this caseappears to have taken place in the open air. Read that paper, "commanded the Lady Mayoress, "and offer any suggestion you can find asto how I can keep up my position, or your position, whilst such astatement as this" (tapping the opened paper) "remains uncontradicted. "Then the Lady Mayoress swept from the room. 

Sir Simon groaned and closed his eyes before venturing to look at theoffending article. He instinctively felt he was about to receive ashock without the necessary strength to bear it. Sir Simon gingerlyunclosed one eye and read, "Audacious attack by Mr. Learnéd Bore. " SirSimon shivered and hastily closed the one eye he had opened. Then hevaliantly tried both eyes and read by way of a second and happyheadline, "The Lord Mayor revives Paganism in London. " Sir Simon neverknew how he finished that article. It was a most scurrilous attack. 

All the biting satire and vitriolic irony that Mr. Learnéd Bore had sowell at his command was here employed to compliment the Lord Mayor uponbeing acclaimed a great Christian in the afternoon after opening hisNew House for Children; whilst he was found at night like any Pagan ofold worshipping one of the lions in Trafalgar Square, around whose manehe had hung a votive wreath of water-lilies, across whose unresponsiveneck the Lord Mayor had wound his arms in supplication, imploring itthat it might speak, and give a sign like the Oracle in Delphi. 

Was the Lord Mayor of London the last of the great Pagans? asked thewriter, or had he merely gone back a few thousand years in imagination, owing to the insidious suggestions of another Heathen Deity who haddoubtless presided over the Wine-press with an unstinted hand earlierin the day during the banquet at the Guildhall? The writer dared toexpress a hope that it was merely a form of Civic debauchery emanatingfrom the oft-replenished toasts of the Devil's cup, rather than aclassical intoxication which if persisted in might plunge the whole ofLondon once more into the perverted darkness of Pagan ages. 

The Lord Mayor seized his hat and called for his carriage, and arrivedat the Writer's chambers overlooking Trafalgar Square, purple in theface. 

"Yes, I've read it, Dad, " remarked the Writer as he observed SirSimon's signs of almost apoplectic agitation. "It's very bad form, andwhat is worse it's very badly written. "

"The pen is mightier than the sword, " shouted Sir Simon, "andunfortunately the sword is out of date nowadays, or I would challengehim upon the spot; but, my boy, you have the pen, and you can use it, and a jolly sight better than the silly ass who wrote that article. Will you answer him for me?"

The Writer smiled and shook his head. 

"No, Dad, that is exactly what he wants; he would get all theadvertisement out of such a controversy that his soul craves for, andwhich is absolutely necessary for him now to keep up his reputation. Ihave something to suggest much better than that. "

"What is it?" asked the Lord Mayor helplessly. 

"Did you ever consider some of the characteristics of Ulysses, Dad?"

"Oh, they talked about him in my school-days, but I didn't have muchschooling, you know; and what on earth has Ulysses to do with this?"

The Writer grinned. "Because, Dad, he possessed a remarkably wily giftof always finding his enemies' one vulnerable spot. "

"Well?"

"I know at least two of Learnéd Bore's most vulnerable spots. "

"Eh? Unbounded conceit and unlimited calumny?" questioned Sir Simon. 

"No, " rejoined the Writer, "I should say he was _invulnerable_ uponthose two points. However, two things he dreads more than anythingelse. He has a horror of ridicule when it is turned upon himself, andan unutterable and most unnatural hatred of all children. "

"Well, I don't see how that helps me, " rejoined the Lord Mayor. 

The Writer looked at Sir Simon significantly, and spoke slowly anddeliberately so that his words might have their full effect. 

"Lose no time in bringing an action against him for libel; as adefendant he will be off his pedestal, --and at a disadvantage. "

The Lord Mayor opened his eyes and whistled softly. "I never thoughtof that, " he confessed; "and where does his horror of children come in?"

"The chief witness for your side will be little Ridgwell, " suggestedthe Writer quietly; "it will be something that Learnéd Bore doesn'tunderstand, has never encountered, and will not know how to deal with, and of the two I know whose story will be believed, however fantasticit sounds. The child will be the one who will score, they always do inCourt, and I think that Learnéd Bore will live to gnash such teeth ashe hasn't had pulled, and employ the venom of his remaining fangs uponsome one else. "

Sir Simon lay back in his chair and laughed heartily, and all his oldgood-humour seemed to be restored to him. 

"'Pon my word, " he declared, "it is a capital idea of yours. How shallI commence the action?"

"I'll find the man for you and get Vellum and Crackles, the solicitors, to instruct him at once on the case. His name is Mr. Gentle Gammon, K. C. , a famous barrister. He was at school with me, and afterwards atOxford. Why, Dad, you must remember him, he returned home once with meand spent the Christmas holidays with us at Lancaster Gate. Mumthought an awful lot of him. "

"I remember!" exclaimed Sir Simon excitedly; "meek manner, gentlevoice, but the young devil always got his own way, I noticed, beforeany one even knew what he was after. "

"He gets his own way rather more now than he did then, if possible, andby the same means. He always wins his cases too. "

"Engage him, " commanded Sir Simon, "engage him at once, my boy; and areyou going to undertake to coach little Ridgwell?"

"Little Ridgwell won't want any coaching, " chuckled the Writer. "Ionly want little Ridgwell to appear in Court and talk to them about thePleasant-Faced Lion as he talks to me, and I think it will be arefreshing and unusual experience for them all; and I firmly believefor the first time in his life Mr. Learnéd Bore will not be able tofind anything to say. "

"It's very odd, " remarked Sir Simon as he rose to take his departure, "really very odd that you should have mentioned that chap justnow--what's his name--Ulysses; as far as I remember he was a verycunning person, uncannily cunning, and I'm afraid really quiteunderhand, so to speak, and sometimes deceitful in his methods; and doyou know, my boy, you rather remind me of him, now I come to think ofthe matter. "

The Writer grinned affably. 

"And whilst we are upon this subject, " pursued Sir Simon, "I shouldreally like to know what explanation you gave to the policeman thatnight, that he considered so convincing and satisfactory. "

"Even Ulysses didn't reveal all his wisdom, Dad. Good-bye. "

CHAPTER IX

THE WRITER PLANS WICKED PLANS

Now it so happened that the Writer chanced to be quite as fond of jokesas the Pleasant-Faced Lion, and the Writer contended, taking all thecircumstances into consideration, that an action for libel with thePleasant-Faced Lion involved in it would be an excellent great bigjoke, to say nothing of a graceful retaliation upon the Pleasant-FacedLion himself for a few of the jokes which that Pleasant Animal hadplayed upon the Writer. Not to mention the fact that such a casepromised to supply the Writer with a little light recreation almost inthe nature of a holiday, after the labours of producing his last book. 

Consequently, as soon as Sir Simon had left, the Writer selected hisfavourite pipe, filled it with his choicest tobacco, and having lit it, stretched himself at ease upon the most comfortable divan in his rooms, and thought out subtle schemes. 

There he lay laughing and chuckling for all the world like a wickedPuck, bent upon mischief, joyfully and solely devised for a confusionof his enemies, particularly Mr. Learnéd Bore. 

Cheered and emboldened by such happy reflections, the Writer hit upon ascheme haphazard which for sheer unscrupulous impudence would baffleall description; gradually embroidering his machinations with thatwhimsicality that had always served him so well as an author, until hisplans appeared to be complete. 

"Very fortunate, " murmured the Writer as he knocked out his pipe, "thatthose kids told me all about the Pleasant-Faced Lion's party. Greatheavens, what a chance! and it will be worth a fifty-pound note to haveLal brought into Court and to hear the Griffin's song sang in Court, and sung it shall be, only I must alter the words to fit the occasion. "Here the Writer sat upon the edge of the table and rocked withdelighted laughter. 

"Ha! ha! ha!" gurgled the Writer, "only one man in London who can setit, and, by Jove, I'll ring him up on the 'phone at once; a fewjudicious rehearsals--before Vellum and Crackles, the solicitors, arecommunicated with--to say nothing of Gentle Gammon, and--ha! ha!ha!--what a glorious joke. What's Billy Cracker's number in the book?"

A quarter of an hour afterwards, in answer to a most urgent summons bytelephone, Mr. William Cracker made his appearance in the Writer'srooms. 

Mr. William Cracker, called Billy by his friends, was rapidly rising tofame as a writer of musical comedy--a tall, sleek personage, withstraw-coloured hair brilliantined very flat over his head, andcarefully parted in the centre, wearing a monocle in one eye, whichappeared to grow there, and was always lavishly adorned as an exact andliving replica of the latest fashion plate. 

Billy greeted the Writer and stared at him through his eyeglassquizzically. 

"Whenever I hear you give that Mephistophelean chuckle at the end ofthe 'phone, " commented Billy, "I always know you have got someparticularly impish scheme on. Well, what is it?"

"Oh, Billy, Billy, " chuckled the Writer, "I have indeed got a scheme, and it is funnier, Billy, than any of your musical comedies. "

"In that case, " announced Billy, as he leisurely helped himself to asmoke which the Writer offered, "I shall steal the plot. "

"Listen, Billy. Could you write a tune, a refrain, an air, whateveryou call it, so catchy that people would hum it and sing it on thespot? I want a perfectly irresistible tune, Billy. "

"All my tunes are irresistible, " confessed Billy modestly. 

"Yes, but I want an absolute dead cert. The sort of thing you used towrite at Oxford before you took up music as a profession; you know, oneof those catchy things we all used to stand round and sing the instantyou played it. "

"Of course, " returned Billy equably, "it's my profession. I turn outany amount of such things. "

"Oh, yes; but, Billy, this has got to be a Comic Classic. "

Billy considered for a space. 

"Is it to be sung in a Comic Opera?" he asked. 

"No, it's going to be sung in Court. "

Billy stared through his eyeglass. 

"You're joking!" he said. 

"Of course I'm joking, " retorted the Writer, "you only have to read thewords to gather that fact. "

"Have you got the words?"

"Yes, here they are; but wait a minute, old chap, that isn't all, youhave got to coach a youngster I know to sing them. "

"Oh, that's a very different matter, " demurred Billy; "I don't teach, and anyway it would be awful waste of time. "

"I will pay you your own fee, " grinned the Writer, as he fingered acheque-book, artlessly placed upon the top of a desk. "Nice fatcheque, Billy, always useful. "

Mr. Billy Cracker appeared instantly to succumb to this suggestion andto take very kindly to it. 

"Here are the words, " said the Writer modestly, handing two half-sheetsof notepaper to his friend, "there is the grand piano, Billy, openedalready, a medium of expression only waiting for your musical genius. "

"Let's see the words, " said Billy. 

Mr. Cracker perused the lines offered for his inspection with amazement. 

"I say, " he observed, "they seem awful rot. "

The Writer laughed. 

"Ah, Billy, that's only because you don't know the situation yet. "

"True, " assented Billy; "I've had worse given me to set in musicalcomedies. Now let me see, " murmured Mr. Cracker as he seated himselfat the pianoforte, "scansion is the great thing--scansion and rhythm. "

Thereupon followed a curious procession of tum tiddle, tum tiddle, tumtiddle, tiddle tums, varied by little tinkling outbursts upon thepianoforte, which there could be no doubt that Mr. Billy Cracker playedastonishingly well. 

"Easy or difficult to set?" inquired the Writer. 

"Oh, child's play!"

"That's just what I want it for, " remarked the Writer encouragingly, "child's play, and the sort of tune a child would sing whilst heplayed. "

"Half a mo, " murmured Billy, "I'm getting it fine--lum, lum, lum, lum, lum, lum, lum, lum, lum. Ha! What do you think of this?"

Out rippled a delicious melody, harmonised with rich full chords thistime. 

"That's it!" shouted the Writer excitedly. "Oh! lovely!! Billy, you're a treasure. Oh! play it again!"

Mr. Billy Cracker obligingly consented. 

The Writer was dancing round the room and singing at one and the sametime. 

"Ripping! Billy, Ripping! Write it down at once!"

"Suppose you haven't got any music-paper in the place? No, I thoughtnot; never mind, I can soon manufacture some from thismanuscript-paper. "

"No, not that, " exclaimed the Writer hastily, "that's my new poem. "

"Humph! Hope it's better than the one you have given me to set. "

"Billy, " exclaimed the Writer enthusiastically, "I am going to standyou a tip-top lunch, and then I'm going to take you to Balham. "

"Balham, good gracious! what on earth for?"

"You've got to give a music lesson in Balham after lunch, Billy, onelesson will be enough with that tune. Why, it's in my head now, Ican't forget the thing. "

"Isn't that exactly what you required?" asked Billy languidly, as hewrote down notes. 

 * * * * *

Messrs. Vellum and Crackles, most concise and conservative ofsolicitors, found themselves suffering for the first time in thehistory of the firm from a fit of astonishment, not to mention dismay, regarding the strange nature and unusual features of a case concerningwhich their firm had recently received instructions. 

The case was considered so unusual that a sort of hastily contrivedboard meeting was deemed expedient, and was accordingly held in Mr. Vellum's private room. 

At the end of the meeting, Mr. Vellum gave instructions for the writingof a letter to the Board of Works, for special permission to have oneof the Lions, which would be, hereinafter, especially pointed out andspecified, removed from Trafalgar Square to the Law Courts, as itspresence in Court was deemed indispensable in a case of a peculiar andspecial nature. 

"It is a very singular application, " remarked Mr. Crackles thoughtfully. 

"I hope the request will not bring ridicule upon the firm, " rejoinedMr. Vellum. 

BOOK III

WHAT THE PUBLIC HEARD ABOUT

CHAPTER X

THE LION GOES TO COURT

There was a curious hush of expectancy one early autumn afternoon inCourt X. , about to be presided over by Mr. Justice Chatty. 

Outside in the streets London was suffering from partial darkness, which is not infrequently the case, so a number of the lights in Courthad been lit, and although they burned a somewhat dull amber, thelighting was sufficient to outline a truly remarkable scene. 

Mr. Justice Chatty, the Judge, had not yet entered and taken his seat, so that the expectant hush which had momentarily crept over the Courtwas all the more remarkable by way of contrast to the series of rusheswhich had gone before this state of calm. 

Something approaching a small riot had taken place before the doors ofthe Court had been opened. Crowds of curiosity-loving people, havingstationed themselves outside for hours, and who had even thoughtfullyprovided themselves with sandwiches, now fought and kicked andstruggled in solid wedges to find a place, and even roundly abused thepolice who controlled the doors when they were thrust away. The publichave an unfortunate habit of becoming abusive whenever "House Full" isannounced, after bravely enduring the probationary martyrdom of waitinghours for one of their favoured entertainments to start. 

The belief that the Judge was about to take his seat was found to be afalse alarm, so the hum and hubbub inside the Court recommenced withrenewed activity. The solicitors chattered at their table likemagpies. The leading barristers turned over their briefs and snappedout replies to the other barristers with them, and fidgeted with theirgowns. Everybody glared at everybody else in the amber-lighted Court, but however eagerly they talked, and wherever they looked, the eyes ofevery one in Court always returned to stare in amazement and wonderingcuriosity upon one object. In the body of the Court, looming out ofthe dimness, the head fully illuminated, was the enormous statue of abronze lion upon its stone pedestal. 

"Most extraordinary case in my recollection, " drawled a juniorbarrister to one of his fellows who was flattened beside him; "nowonder there is no room in Court with that ridiculous thing stuckthere!"

"Who's for the defendant?"

"Dreadful, K. C. , instructed by Brockett and Bracket. "

"Umph! then I suppose there will be explosions and fireworks in Court:it's usually so when Dreadful starts. "

"Gentle Gammon, I see, for the plaintiff. Biggest spoofer on the LawList, clever though. "

Even after the Court appeared to be packed with that overlappingeconomy which is a characteristic repose of preserved sardines, smallbodies of juniors, some with wigs, some without wigs, some in wholegowns, some with their gowns in shreds, forced their way in from otherdoors and other Courts. Some conspicuously held briefs borrowed forthe occasion, some did not even pretend to have any such thing. 

The stalwart policeman who guarded this second door suddenly becamefirm, and closed it with a mighty effort; that is to say, he all butclosed it, only was prevented by the foot and head of the last juniorhurrying in, who howled his agony aloud at having fallen into such atrap. 

"No, no, Mr. Towers, " expostulated the tall constable, "can't you seethe Court is full and won't hold another one?"

"Lucas, let me in at once. "

"I can't, sir, more than my position is worth. "

"Then let me out, " howled the suffering junior, "you're crushing myfoot and my neck. "

The stalwart policeman lessened a fraction of his weight against thedoor, and the imprisoned junior was allowed to scrape himself out asgradually as his peculiar position would admit. 

The one person who considered the presence of the Lion in Court to bethe most natural thing in the world was Ridgwell, who, standing besidethe Writer, peeped through the little glass panel let into the doorleading from a passage to one of the witnesses waiting-rooms. 

"Is the Round Game going to commence?" Ridgwell asked the Writerinnocently. 

The Writer admitted gravely that the Round Game was going to commencewith a vengeance. 

"The ones who lose have to pay the forfeits, haven't they?" persistedRidgwell. 

"Yes, " agreed the Writer. "Exactly--ahem!--heavy forfeits. "

"I hope Sir Simon wins then, " observed Ridgwell. 

"You see that man across there, Ridgwell, " remarked the Writer, "bigfierce-looking man making ineffectual efforts to adjust his wigbecomingly over a pair of very big red ears, with two very big redhands?"

"Yes, " agreed Ridgwell. 

"With the sort of expression upon his face that the first of the ThreeBears must have worn when he entered Silverlocks' kitchen and found thebread-and-milk to be missing?"

"Yes, " laughed Ridgwell, "I remember, 'Who stole my bread-and-milk?'"

"Well, that is the man who is going to try to make you and I and SirSimon pay the forfeits. "

"How?" inquired Ridgwell. 

"Well, " suggested the Writer, "you know he will roar and shout and bangthe table with those red hands of his, and try to frighten everybody, but the one thing to do is not to take the slightest notice of him. Ifhe annoys you, just smile; if he continues to annoy you, just glancetowards the Judge. "

At this moment the voices of the ushers were heard shouting for silenceand order, and a profound stillness reigned inside the Court, for hisLordship the Judge had entered through the doors leading to his roomand had taken his seat. 

His scarlet robe only seemed to accentuate the colour of his puffy pinkcheeks, whilst the blackness of his little beady eyes and pointed noserather gave him the appearance of some overfed bird gorged to repletionafter a particularly satisfying meal, slightly apoplectic, with itsbeak out of focus. The Judge, moreover, appeared to be afflicted witha little wheezy asthmatical cough which attacked him at intervals as heprepared to arrange his papers. The Clerk carefully placed a glass ofwater upon the desk by his Lordship's side, but whether this was doneby way of a simple remedy for the Judge's wheezy little cough, ormerely as a gentle reminder that the case was likely to be a dry one, cannot be guessed with any certainty. The preliminaries having beenarranged, the case having been called, the Ushers of the Court havingagain shouted unnecessarily for silence, Sir Simon Gold having staredat the Judge, and Mr. Learnéd Bore having stared at everybody, theJudge having appeared to have closed his beady eyes in slumber, like abroody hen upon a perch, Mr. Gentle Gammon rose and opened his case forthe plaintiff. 

As Ridgwell observed in a whisper, "the Round Game had started. " Mr. Gentle Gammon opened his case in his proverbially gentle tones. It wasa silky voice, purring in its gentleness, but with a curious power ofpenetrating every corner of the over-crowded Court; it insisted evenwhilst it soothed, and its effect upon his Lordship the Judge seemed tobe most pleasing, as he immediately appeared to nod to it as if ingreeting. Mr. Gentle Gammon related to the Court how his client, holding the highest Civic position in London, had been made the subjectof a virulent and unscrupulous newspaper attack by a man who, inaddition to writing plays which nobody professed to understand, undoubtedly wrote articles that all fair-minded people unquestionablydeplored. This unprincipled person, Mr. Learnéd Bore by name, had seenfit to attack no less a person than the Worshipful the Lord Mayor ofLondon, and that, moreover, during his Lordship's tenure of office, believing that he, an unscrupulous journalist, could drag the LordMayor down from his exalted position by means of a few clap-trapphrases written for money, although he, the learned Counsel, marvelledhow any one could find it in their hearts to remunerate such a personengaged in such a calling using such questionable language in such apreposterous case. 

He, the Most Worshipful the Lord Mayor, the observed of all observersin the City as elsewhere, or in any assemblage he adorned with hispresence and ornamented with his personality, had been accused in anoffensive phrase of "imbibing too freely of the Devil's cup, " theDevil's cup in this instance signifying wine, the insidious inferencebeing that the Most Worshipful the Mayor was inebriated, and, moreover, in public, and in Trafalgar Square of all places in London. TheCounsel paused dramatically, then a thrill of unutterable horror creptinto the hitherto purring voice of Mr. Gentle Gammon. 

"That, my Lord and Gentlemen of the Jury, is a foul calumny, aninsidious lie, uttered to drag down the exalted of the earth, andbespatter the resplendent robes of Civic dignity with the spiteful mudbesprinkled from the nethermost garbaged recesses of the journalisticgutter. 

"During the still and beautiful night hours, when this travesty of anaccusation is brought, my client, the Most Worshipful, had wanderedinto the holy star-lit night, clad in the flowing robes symbolical ofhis exalted earthly estate, to place a wreath, a beautiful wreath, uponone of the monuments of London he deemed the most dignified and fittingto receive it. That monument, if they but lifted their eyes, theywould see in Court. A stately noble Lion, whose presence there hadnecessitated the removal of four separate sets of folding doors leadingto the Court in order that it might be present. Could this noble beastbut speak, " urged Mr. Gentle Gammon, K. C. , "could it even roar, itwould speak its severest censures, would roar its loudest denunciationsat the libellous statement that the noble Civic head of London whohonoured it, could possibly have done so, could conceivably haveclimbed to such a height upon its back, unless he had been eminentlysober, unfalteringly steady at the time when, clad in his robes in thecalm violet depth of night, he had placed his offering in happyfelicitation as a symbol and a greeting to his beloved City of London. This should have excited only admiration; but seen through the pryingeyes of a prurient pressman, this touching tribute had been changed bythe vile alchemy of suspicion to an unseemly and ridiculous action ofmidnight debauchery which could only have turned the noble Lion tostone, had it not already been made of bronze. 

"My Lord and Gentlemen of the Jury, this Lion stands for liberty, as doall British Lions. I claim the liberty and full right of my client, ifhe deems fit, to be able to decorate any statue of London whenever hepleases, at any or every possible hour of the night that he chooses, without the stupid and interfering intervention of a constable, or theslanderous pen of a Mr. Learnéd Bore, having the power to make alovable and harmless action wear the appearance of a midnight frolic ofbibulous recklessness, which, had it taken place, would have been onlyfood and gossip for the senseless and shameful, and reflective regretfor the wise. 

"My Lord and Gentlemen of the Jury, my client does not wish for bigdamages, but he does demand strict justice. That is what he is herefor, my Lord and Gentlemen of the Jury, that is what we are all herefor. If I were given to emotion, which I am glad to confess I am not, my deepest and innermost emotions would be called forth by the pictureof his Lordship there before us, who holds the scales of Justice in hishands, who can pierce the outer coverings of dissembling and falsehoodwith the eagle eye of truth, who can right this hideous wrong, who cansmooth out the crooked paths of falsehood, making all plain. Let thefalse traducer beware, I say, he is veritably between the Lion and theEagle. His Lordship in this case is the Eagle (metaphorically, ofcourse), " hastily added Counsel, upon noticing the extraordinarylikeness of his Lordship to a bird roosting, "and the Lion and theEagle shall each of them turn and between them rend the truth andnothing but the truth from the lying carcase of calumny. 

"Having now shown with impartiality, at the same time characterisedwith reserve, that the condition ascribed to the Right Worshipful theLord Mayor was ridiculous, I will proceed to deal with the otherstatement in this misjudged journalistic attack, that the RightWorshipful was reviving Paganism in London, and in consequenceattracting a crowd. Far from the Right Worshipful either attractingattention or causing a scene or obstruction in Trafalgar Square, Ishall prove indisputably that it was the Lion, and the Lion alone, thatcaused the scene; the Lion also, who by a strange metamorphosisoccasioned a crowd to collect. We know from classical history that inBabylon and Assyria bulls talked, we have heard of the oracle ofDelphi, and in Biblical history of animals who talked. I shall proveby witnesses that this Lion has not only walked but talked as well. "

Sensation in Court. 

Here his Lordship the Judge appeared to show the first sign of interesthe had evinced in the case. 

"My learned friend must be careful, " cautioned the Judge. "If what hestates is true, the Lion may have to go into the witness-box. "

Titters in Court. The Learned Judge smiles, rather pleased with hisown remark. 

Mr. Dreadful, K. C. , at this point arose hastily; in fact, the learnedK. C. Almost jumped. 

"My Lord, I protest against such a line of argument, such a travestybeing introduced to mar the seriousness of this case. "

His Lordship waved the learned and excited gentleman aside. 

"I am the Judge here, " observed his Lordship, "and in that sense I evenresemble Daniel with regard to his duties in a similar capacity, but Ifear I do not possess his special knowledge with regard to Lions. "

Titters again in Court, in which the Learned Judge joins. 

"However, I am always anxious to learn. "

Renewed titters. 

Mr. Dreadful, K. C. , seats himself hurriedly and grinds his teeth invexation, but finds time to whisper rapidly to a junior, who leaves theCourt hastily and mysteriously. 

"Pray continue, Mr. Gammon. "

"My Lord, I have little more to say. "

"I am sorry for that, " interposed the Judge; "you were beginning tointerest me more than I should have believed possible. "

Mr. Gentle Gammon bowed ever so slightly, as if the Learned Judge hadcrowned him with a compliment that he found too heavy for his head tosupport, and proceeded--

"But, my Lord and Gentlemen of the Jury, if I say little else withregard to this case before you, which is permeated throughout by themythical mystery of a classical age, it is only that the witnesses Ishall produce to prove this strange thing may speak instead of myself. Three witnesses in all, and one in particular. The one in particular, since only truth can issue from the lips of infancy, I shall callfirst. My Lord, I shall put a child, a little boy, into the witnessbox that you may hear his simple story. "

_Judge_. "Dear me, I hope he won't be frightened of the Lion. "(Titters in Court. )

_Mr. Gammon, K. C. _ "On the contrary, my Lord, you will find he regardsit as an old friend; and, my Lord, when you have listened to what hehas to say, I think we may all realise 'that there are more things inheaven and earth than are dreamt of in--er--philosophy. '"

_His Lordship_ (pleasantly). "I think I have heard that before. "

_Mr. Gammon_ (courteously). "Your Lordship is much too well read tohave missed it. " (Thereupon Mr. Gammon, K. C. , sat down. )

_Judge_ (with a little snigger). "The only thing I am likely to missis how our _celestial_ knowledge is going to be especially advancedthis afternoon. However, the curious nature of the case as presentedpossesses unlimited possibilities. "

Ridgwell, having been called, walked with the utmost composure intoCourt and took his place in the witness-box. He looked very tiny, butvery self-possessed, and smiled pleasantly at the Judge. 

The Judge smiled pleasantly back at Ridgwell. 

Mr. Gammon rose to the occasion and to his feet at one and the sametime. He permitted the pleasing impression that Ridgwell hadunconsciously created to have its full effect upon the Court, and uponeverybody present with the exception of Mr. Learnéd Bore, whosecountenance alone wore the disgusted and horrified expression thatmight have been expected had a great green toad been introduced intothe witness-box. Mr. Learnéd Bore's countenance afforded a strangestudy of nausea struggling against outraged dignity. 

"Now, Ridgwell, do you see any one in Court that you know?"

"Yes. Lal. "

"And will you tell us who Lal is?" purred Mr. Gammon. 

"Yes, Lal is the Pleasant-Faced Lion. There he is, " said Ridgwell. 

"How do you know his name is Lal?" inquired Counsel winningly. 

"He told me so himself, it is short for Lionel. Lionel is his propername. "

"And when did this Lion Lal first speak to you?"

"Some weeks ago. The night I got lost in the fog. "

This was altogether too much for Mr. Dreadful, K. C. 

"My Lord, " shouted that gentleman, as he bounded to his feet, "my Lord, I take this opportunity of protesting that the witness is not the onlyone who complains of being lost in the fog. I myself, my Lud, amcompletely lost owing to the same cause. "

"In that case, " said the Judge, testily, "always keep quite still, andyou will in time find out where you are. "

Titters in Court. 

"My Lord, " roared Counsel for the defendant, "I protest!"

The Judge interposing. "My learned friend, there is only one thingpresent in this Court that has a right to roar, and it is noticeablewhat a good example he sets you by refraining from doing so. "(Amusement in Court. ) "Kindly sit down. The little boy is giving hisevidence very well indeed. "

"Am I to take this witness's evidence down, my Lord?" inquired theJudge's Clerk in a whisper. 

"Certainly, certainly, " replied the Judge. "If a Hans ChristianAndersen comes into Court, or sends a deputy, the evidence must betaken down, the same as anybody else's. "

"And now, Ridgwell, " said Mr. Gentle Gammon, in his gentlest tones, "will you please tell us in your own way all that befell you when youbecame acquainted with the Pleasant-Faced Lion. "

For a considerable time the Learned Judge folded his claw-like thumbsand listened, and the Court sat amazed and stupefied whilst Ridgwelltold of all the adventures that had befallen him after his acquaintancewith Lal. 

First came the tournament, then his first ride home to Balham on theLion's back. 

"Rather a long way, little man, eh?" suggested the Judge, affably. "Hecould never have been away so far from Trafalgar Square before. Howdid he find his way?"

"Oh, he followed the tram-lines, " said Ridgwell. 

Titters in Court. 

"Good indeed, a most admirable witness this, " observed his Lordship. 

Then followed a simple but glowing description of the Pleasant-FacedLion's wonderful evening party. 

"Dear me, " again observed his Lordship, "you had Royalty present, too!"

"Yes, " said Ridgwell. "King Richard, King Charles, Queen Boadicea; andOliver Cromwell came in and shouted 'Ho!' at King Richard and 'Ha, ha!'at King Charles. Then the Griffin ordered Oliver Cromwell out, andChristine thanked him. "

"Very extraordinary and interesting, " observed his Lordship; "and whois Christine?"

"She is my little sister. "

"I have her deposition here, my Lord, " broke in Counsel for plaintiff, "bearing out her brother's statements. "

When Ridgwell came to a description of the Griffin, his sayings, doings, his woes and his character generally, the entire Court rockedwith amusement which nobody made any effort to subdue. 

"And now, " said Counsel, who had watched everything up to this pointwith the cunning eye of a fox, "and now, little man, will you kindlysing as well as you can the song you say the Griffin sang at the partybefore the Lion?"

At this point Mr. Learnéd Bore, with his hands covering his ears, sankhis head upon the solicitor's table at which he sat. If there was onething Mr. Learnéd Bore hated more than children, it was music, in anyshape or form, and when they both came together Mr. Learnéd Bore sharedall the unpleasant feelings from which Mephistopheles was supposed tohave suffered whenever he heard church bells. In a beautifully clearchildish voice Ridgwell sang the merry song in the merriest wayimaginable. 

 "Of a merry, merry King I will relate, Who owned much silver, gold and plate, "

commenced Ridgwell triumphantly, in a quite wonderful rendering of theGriffin's favourite ballad. The tune was haunting, the swing of theair irresistible. The entire Court became slowly infected with theseductive gaiety of the song. The Juniors began to move their feet, the solicitors began to wave their quill pens to it. The Usher of theCourt nodded his head, and his Lordship the Judge was so carried awayby the melody that he unconsciously beat time gently by wagging onefinger, whilst he smiled around upon the Court; and so in a burst ofpleasing song Ridgwell continued--

 "Yet one thing the merry, merry King forgot, That it would be his Griffin's lot To be very, very cold or very, very hot--"

"High up in Fleet Street, " sang the entire Court. 

 "So slowly the faithful creature got Chilblains in Fleet Street. "

"Chilblains in Fleet Street, " yelled all the Juniors in chorus. Onwent Ridgwell without a breath--

 "The Griffin grew prettier day by day, Directing the traffic along each way, With always a pleasant word to say, "

"High up in Fleet Street, " burst from the Court, who knew the phrasequite as well as the refrain by this time, and could not have sung itbetter if they had practised it. 

 "One trouble alone caused him dismay, "

"Chilblains in Fleet Street, " came the chorus, which drowned Ridgwell'slast notes entirely. 

Frantic applause in Court, which the Judge instantly suppressed. 

"If, " said his Lordship, forgetful of the fact that he himself hadhelped in the scene by beating time, "if I have any more of thisdisgraceful disturbance in Court I shall give orders for it to beinstantly cleared. "

"Thank you, that will do. You can step down now, Ridgwell, " said Mr. Gentle Gammon. 

"And very well sung, " observed his Lordship, as Ridgwell departed. 

The next witnesses were called, Cissie Laurie and John Bowling. 

"Are you sure you have those names correctly?" asked the Judge. 

"Yes, my Lord; why?"

_The Judge_ (facetiously). "It has been an afternoon of ballads; wehave just heard one very well sung, and it seems to me that thecollection would not be complete without _Annie_ Laurie and _Tom_Bowling. " (Much laughter in Court, in which the Learned Judge joins ina high-pitched alto. )

John Bowling admitted that he behaved most oddly, but he did so becausethe Lion seemed to be behaving strangely. Said he thought the Lion'seyes had gone green; believing that they were real emeralds, he hadtried to cut them out with his knife. 

_Judge_. "What! tried to gouge out the Pleasant-Faced Lion's eyes?"(Laughter in Court. )

The Sailor admitted it with contrition. 

_The Judge_. "Such a gentle creature, too! Lal, the Children'sfriend. " (Much laughter in Court. )

_His Lordship_. "Had _you_ been to the party?" (Renewed laughter. )

_Sailor_. "No, my Lord, not his, another. " (More laughter. )

Counsel here asked witness to relate what exactly happened upon theevening in question. 

_Sailor_. "Well, yer see, governor, I can't say, 'cos I can't remembermuch about it; yer see, I was tuppence on the can, so to speak. "

_Judge_ (interrupting). "I don't understand that expression; is it aterm used in the Navy? What does he mean by 'Tuppence on the can'?"

_Sailor_. "Well, in other words, I was blind, your Worship, I meanyour Lordship. " (Titters in Court. )

Counsel hastened to explain that Mr. Bowling wished to convey theunfortunate fact that he was intoxicated. 

_Sailor_. "You've caught it, governor!"

Counsel was here heard to murmur words to the effect that he wasthankful to say he had not caught it. 

_Witness_ (continuing unabashed). "Yer see, the reason as I was like Iwas, I 'ad snatched five dog's-noses right off. "

_Judge_ (plaintively to Counsel). "What does he mean by saying hesnatched five dog's-noses? Why, was he possessed with a mania formutilating animals?"

_Counsel_ (explaining). "No, my Lord, the dog's-noses the witnessrefers to is a form of alcoholic stimulant--ahem!--gin, I believe, withsome other ingredient, such as ale, mixed with it. "

_His Lordship_. "Oh, very well. "

Counsel. "Did the witness consider the Lord Mayor of London was sober?"

_Sailor_. "Do you mean that there old cove in the red gown?"

_Judge_ (excitedly, and in needless alarm). "Of whom is he speaking?"

_Counsel_ (hastening to explain). "The Lord Mayor, my Lord. I askedthe witness did he consider the Lord Mayor sober upon the night theymet. "

_Witness_. "Yes, he was sober enough, but I think he was balmy, and Ishall always think he was balmy. "

_Counsel_. "Thank you, that is sufficient; you can stand down. "

Cissie Laurie, upon being called, went skittishly into the witness box, curtseyed to the Court, and blew a kiss to the Judge. 

His Lordship glared at the lady in shocked amazement. 

Upon being questioned, Mrs. Laurie confided that most of her early lifehad been passed playing in Pantomimes, therefore she had always beenfond of dancing. At the present time she kept a lodging-house fortheatricals, and the only chance she had of indulging in her old andfavourite pastime seemed to be to dance attendance upon these lodgers. 

"Never mind what you do indoors, " suggested Counsel. "I want to knowwhat you do out of doors, what you did out of doors on the particularnight in question when you met the Lord Mayor of London. "

"Well, I felt young and girlish, " confessed Cissie. "The first floorback and the second floor front had both gone out, and the house seemeddull with no lights and nobody in it. "

"Never mind about the house or the lighting of it, " interruptedCounsel. "You went out for a walk in the streets of London. "

"When I got to Trafalgar Square, " continued Cissie, "I felt skittish, thoughtless and jolly, and I could 'ave declared he laughed at me andthen winked. "

_Judge_ (interrupting). "The witness tells her story very badly. Wholaughed and winked at her? The Lord Mayor?"

_Counsel_ (hastily). "No, no, my Lord, not the Lord Mayor; the Lion. "

_Judge_. "Oh, well, why doesn't she say so?"

Then proceeded Cissie, heedless of all interruptions--

"I sees the wreath round his neck, and I at once thought of the Russiandancers----"

_Judge_. "Tut, tut, tut! what has the fact of the Lord Mayor of Londonhaving a wreath round his neck to do with the Russian ballet?"

_Counsel_ (in despair). "Not the Lord Mayor, my Lord; the Lion. "

_Judge_ (testily). "Then will the witness please say the word Lionwhenever she wishes to refer to the Lion?"

_Cissy_ (imperturbably). "I don't want to refer to it no more, 'cos Icollared the wreath, and 'olding it over my 'ead I danced round theSquare, just like the posters of them Russian dancers. "

_His Lordship_ (irritably). "Which particular poster was she desirousof realising?"

_Counsel_. "My Lord, I think it must be the one of a slim and classicyouth dancing the Bacchanal with a wreath uplifted over his head. "

_His Lordship_ (looking at Cissie's ample form completely filling thewitness-box, murmurs), "No, I cannot see the picture at all. "

_Counsel_. "Nor I, my Lord, believe me. "

Then volunteered Cissie, "He gave me two sovereigns. "

_Judge_. "What, the Lion? does he give money as well as parties?"

_Counsel_ (desperately). "Not the Lion this time, my Lord, but theLord Mayor. Did you consider that the Lord Mayor was sober when hegave you this money?"

_Cissie_. "Lor bless yer, yes, as sober as his Honour there theblessed Judge himself. "

_Judge_ (with complexion rapidly changing from pink to crimson). "Donot refer to me again in such a way. It is most improper. "

_Cissie_ (obligingly). "Very well, my dear. "

_Judge_ (very annoyed). "Do not address me as my dear, do not addressme at all, direct your remarks to Counsel, please. "

_Cissie_ (tossing her head). "Wot o'! now we shan't be long. "

_Counsel_ (soothingly). "No, Mrs. Laurie, as you observe, we shall notbe long now. Will you kindly tell me where you met the Lord Mayor, previous to your meeting with him in Trafalgar Square?"

_Cissie_. "Yes, I first met him in a Pantomime. "

_Counsel_. "In a Pantomime; very good. "

_Cissie_. "Yus, I was playing Principal Boy, dressed in a green velvetjacket, green ostrich plumes in my 'air, and a pink pair of silktights. Oh, you should just 'ave seen the pink silk tights, bran newones. "

_Counsel_ (hastily). "Thank you, that is sufficient; a detaileddescription of the costume you wore is immaterial to the case. "

_Cissie_. "Oh, is it? then I don't see the object of my being dragged'ere if I ain't to describe my costume. "

_Counsel_. "That will do, thank you, Mrs. Laurie; stand down. "

_Cissie_. "Dragging me all the way 'ere, when the lodgers ain't gottheir dinners yet; fish to fry for the first floor, and the second backwanting macaroni with their stew, because they're I'talians. "

_Counsel_. "That's enough, Mrs. Laurie. "

_Cissie_ (still talking as she prepares to depart). "Oh, is it enough, Mister Grey-Wig? Well, I call it a darned sight too much. " (Cissiehere being persuaded out by an usher of the Court). "So the next timeyou wants me to leave my work in the middle of the day you can fish forme, same as the lodgers will 'ave to fish for their darned dinner thisblessed----" (door of the Court closes upon Cissie, rendering furtherremarks inaudible). 

_Judge_. "A most garrulous woman. "

Here Mr. Dreadful, K. C. , rose with an evil smile of triumph, that is tosay, it was a cross between a legal smile and a snarl. 

Mr. Dreadful, K. C. 's utterances rather suggested the muffleddischarging of pom-poms. Whenever he opened his mouth it was succeededby an explosion of words, then a whistle by way of taking breath, another explosion succeeded by more whistles. Mr. Dreadful announcedthat before placing his client in the witness-box, he would state thatall his client, the defendant's, written words were true in substanceand in fact. 

"The Lord Mayor of London had wandered out into the night, so had hisclient, Mr. Learnéd Bore. This gentleman, a playwright, journalist andwriter, had wandered forth in order, no doubt, to get inspiration. Thesource of any such inspiration as he might have derived from the calmnight had been utterly destroyed by the ridiculous antics of the LordMayor of London; inspiration had vanished, giving place instantly to arighteous feeling of strong condemnation that so beautiful a thingshould have been so ruthlessly crushed. Fancies had fled, driven fromtheir abiding-place by stern facts. Those facts had been embodied in aglowing article, destined to be distributed through the medium of thedaily paper which his client adorned by contributions from his pen. "

"If the Lord Mayor of London objected to the ridicule which hisclient's able article had heaped upon him--it was entirely the fault ofthe Lord Mayor. Any sober person, such as his client, must haveinstinctively supposed the Lord Mayor to be inebriated, when he wasactually discovered arrayed in his state robes, coaxing the statue of aLion to speak to him. Any Christian person, after observing this highCivic official place a wreath about this effigy, would unquestionablyhave believed him to be a Pagan, and a very ignorant one at that. Finding it hopeless to either excuse or explain such conduct, theplaintiff in this action, which ought never to have been brought, thatis if the plaintiff had been wise, had actually, with an impudentaudacity unparalleled in any Court of Law, urged that this lifelessLion not only talked, but made signs. I shall not cross-examine onesingle witness who has appeared up to the present in this case, theyhave sufficiently condemned themselves already. "

"The last lady, with a wealth of unnecessary words and adjectives, hadinformed the Court that she was once in a Pantomime, and it is my firmimpression that is exactly where all the other witnesses in this caseought to be, especially the child who had unblushingly told them a longfairy story, and had attempted to sing them a song. A Pantomime wasthe proper place for them all, a fitting setting, and especiallysuitable for the Lord Mayor himself, robes and all. There, amidst themedley of such an entertainment, the Lord Mayor could coax Lions to dotricks, the sailor could indulge in his hornpipes and quaffdog's-noses. The child could act fairy stories, and sing all byhimself, whilst the vociferating lady, who owned to a weakness fordancing indecorous solos, would be able to delight her heart byperforming the Russian Carnival----"

_Judge_ (prompting). "Bacchanal. "

"They would all be most suitable in a Pantomime, but not in a Court ofLaw. "

"The one amazing thing which had horrified him inexpressibly during thecase was the fact that his learned brother Counsel, Mr. Gentle Gammon, had so far forgotten his professional dignity as to declare that thisLion actually moved and spoke at times. He feared, and also helamented, that his learned brother must be approaching his dotage. Yetin order to satisfy each and every one in Court, he, Mr. Dreadful, hadsent an urgent and special messenger for a first-class veterinarysurgeon, having the letters M. R. C. V. S. After his name, and also for oneof the keepers belonging to the lions' house in the Zoological Gardens. Their evidence would now be taken. "

Upon the appearance of the M. R. C. V. S. In the witness-box the LearnedJudge saw fit to interfere. 

_Judge_. "Have you ever attended a lion professionally?"

_M. R. C. V. S. _ "Never, your Lordship. "

_Judge_ (sagaciously). "Then what do you know about them?"

_M. R. C. V. S. _ "I have attended other animals, your Lordship. "

_Judge_. "Very likely, very likely, but a live ass is a differentthing to a dead lion. " (Laughter in Court. )

_Counsel_ (for the Defendant). "_Better_ than a dead lion, yourLordship. " (More laughter. )

_Judge_. "Not in this case. " (Loud laughter. ) "The learned Counselfor the Defence need not waste the time of the Court in hearing theopinion of either Veterinary Surgeons or experts from the Zoo. Whatthe Learned Counsel ought to do is to produce Pygmalion. " (Titters inCourt. )

Mr. Dreadful, K. C. , rising to protest. "My Lud, Pygmalion is amythical personage, and your Ludship knows he is of a necessityshrouded in silence. "

_His Lordship_. "So is the Lion. " (Laughter in Court. )

_Mr. Dreadful_ (still exploding and still protesting). "My Lud, I doventure to suggest that this Lion should somehow be thoroughlyexamined. "

_His Lordship_. "Well, it is in Court, better try for yourself. Ionly hope your efforts will be as successful as Little Ridgwell's andhis sister Christine, to say nothing of the Lord Mayor of London. "

_Mr. Dreadful_. "My Lud, I cannot treat with these people, it is likedealing with the worshippers of Baal. "

_His Lordship_. "Well, I really cannot sanction digging a trench andlighting fires all round it here in my court, to make it speak. " (Loudlaughter. )

After the laughter had somewhat subsided a slight stir was occasionedin Court by the appearance in the witness-box of Mr. Learnéd Bore. 

In reply to many questions from Mr. Dreadful, K. C. , Mr. Learnéd Borestated all the incidents in Trafalgar Square which he had witnessed, and which had given rise to the present action. 

Cross-examined by Mr. Gentle Gammon--

"You are a famous playwright, Mr. Learnéd Bore, " commenced Counsel. 

"I am a playwright. "

"Do you write to instruct or to amuse?"

"It is possible to combine both. "

"Can you give me an example?"

"Yes, this afternoon's experience in Court. "

"Wonderful as that may have been, Mr. Bore, I suggest you have notwritten it. "

_His Lordship_ (facetiously). "Give him a chance, he may. " (Laughterin Court. )

"Of course, " suggested Counsel, "you always enjoy reading your ownarticles in the papers. "

"Oh dear no. I am only concerned with writing them. "

"But I suggest you read them before you send them in. "

"Never; the Editor saves me the trouble. "

"Your articles have a ready acceptance, I take it. "

"Always. "

"The Editor is so desirous of obtaining your work, I suppose he iswilling to pay a big price for it even before it is written. "

"Yes, and before it is read. "

"Indeed, so there must be a time when nobody knows what your articlesare about, including yourself, as you never read them. " Counselcontinuing. "I presume you never contribute any articles during thetime of the year known as the Silly Season?"

"On the contrary, my first effort in that direction has resulted in thebringing of the present action. "

"You considered the Silly Season had started then, upon the night youmet the Lord Mayor?"

"The Silly Season started then, has continued since, and appears to beat its height here this afternoon. "

(Sweetly. ) "Then you can congratulate yourself upon being thoroughly inthe fashion. Now tell me, Mr. Bore, in your opinion, should we takethe statues of London seriously?"

"No, in my opinion we should take them all down. "

"All? Oh, surely not. Now, as an instance, let us go down the Strand. "

_His Lordship_ (interrupting). "No, no, no, I believe the correctquotation is, 'Let's all go down the Strand. '" (Loud laughter. )

_Counsel_. "I have never heard the quotation, my lord. "

_His Lordship_ (pleasantly). "What! I should have thought thateverybody had heard that, the difficulty is not to hear it. I haveeven heard it set to music. " (Loud laughter. )

"Now, Mr. Bore, " continued Counsel, when order had once more beenrestored. "Has it never struck you that some of the statues of Londonmight, for example, sometimes come to life?"

"Never. I cannot imagine anything less like life, than any of thestatues of London. "

"Surely the one in Court to-day is a good specimen?"

"If it is a specimen it ought to be in its proper place--in a case. "

_Counsel_ (gently). "It is in a case. "

"And I object to it being in this case. "

"Sculpture is evidently not your strong point. "

"Neither are ridiculous fairy tales!"

"You wish us to believe that you, a writer, are only capable of dealingwith facts. "

"I have not encountered any facts in this case at all yet, and Iutterly fail to understand what anybody here can mean by facts afterthis afternoon's exhibition. "

_Judge_ (annoyed). "Tut, tut! Facts are facts: this is a Court ofJustice: I am the Judge; would you, for instance, regard me, _me_ as afact?"

_Mr. Learnéd Bore_. "No, as a figure-head. "

His Lordship shrieks in his highest falsetto--

"Remove this witness at once, he is flippant. Order him to stand down, or I shall commit him for contempt. "

Sensation in Court. Mr. Learnéd Bore leaves the witness-box, hurriedly, and looking slightly scared. 

Mr. Dreadful, K. C. , wishing to cover up the _faux pas_ as quickly aspossible, rises and announces in explosive tones--

"Call the Writer. "

The Writer entered the witness-box; inclined his head slightly to theJudge, smiled in the direction of the Lord Mayor, and was immediatelybombarded explosively by Mr. Dreadful, K. C. , whose pom-pom-like shellswhistling overhead seemed totally unable to disturb the Writer's serenecalm. 

"Now, sir, are you not the author of the song, the ballad, the bosh, whatever you like to call it, that we have all been compelled to listento in Court this afternoon?"

"Yes and No. "

"Don't prevaricate, sir; which is it, yes or no?"

"Both. "

"I warn you, sir, I warn you; what do you mean by both?"

"What I say. "

"Then kindly say what you mean, sir; you must mean one or the other ifyou mean anything; you cannot mean both. "

"I rearranged the song you refer to only from hearsay. "

"Oh, indeed, sir, pray who is the original author?"

"The Griffin. "

"Kindly stop talking nonsense, sir; it is bad enough to have to sufferit from an over-imaginative child, from a grown-up person it isintolerable. Do you suppose we are going to have the Griffin broughtinto Court in addition to the Lion?"

"I hope so. "

"Indeed, indeed, sir, why do you hope so?"

"Well, judging from the Griffin's characteristics we have heard so welldescribed this afternoon, he must be feeling green with envy that hehas not received a summons here. "

"You are pleased to joke, sir, and you are attempting to be elusive, but you will not slip through the fine meshes of evidence woven by thelaw in that way. Kindly examine that paper!"

Small piece of dirty paper passed to witness--

Witness smiles. 

"Is that your handwriting, sir?"

"Certainly. "

"And the composition of the words are yours?"

"No, only touched up from the Griffin's original. "

Mr. Dreadful, bellowing, stamping, and banging his hand upon table allat one and the same time--

"The wretched Griffin is left entirely out of this case, sir. "

"It is a thousand pities; he would have enjoyed it so. "

"My Lord, I will venture to read this fragment mercifully dropped inCourt by the child confederate of this slippery witness: it is headed_Chorus_, my lord; it doubtless forms a last part to the ridiculoussong we all listened to in pained surprise. I contend, my Lord, thatthis fragment which has come into my possession is seditious;seditious, my Lord. "

"Well, well, let us hear it, " his Lordship adding hastily: "No, no, don't sing it, read it. "

"My Lord, your injunction to me is unnecessary; indeed, my Lord, I lackall training enabling me to sing, I am thankful to say, but what ismore to the point, my Lord, I almost lack the necessary self-control toread these seditious words unmoved by indignation. However, my Lord, Iwill make an effort. " Counsel reads: "'Oh, my poor tender feet. '"(Titters in Court. )

_His Lordship_. "Well, well, that is harmless enough, the Griffincomplained of that, you remember. "

_Counsel_. "My Lord, I know nothing of the Griffin, and care lesswhether he complained or what he complained of, but, my Lord, it is Iwho complain, and rightly so, when the majesty of the law of England ismocked at. Listen, my Lord and Gentlemen of the Jury, to the followinglines, and their harmful wickedness--

 "Of what use are England's laws Unless they protect my claws, And keep me warm in the street? What snuffy old Judge in Court, Ever gives my poor feet a thought; Ever thinks of the snows and frosts, Or adds up my bill of costs?"

(Titters in Court from the juniors. )

"There, my Lord, " thundered Counsel, "can any one hear this iniquitousdocument unmoved, these wantonly wicked lines mocking alike at Law andOrder, even at your Lordship's own almost sacred calling. "

_His Lordship_. "A highly offensive and seditious document; impoundit, Mr. Dreadful, and continue your examination of witnesses, please;time goes on. "

"Now, sir, " exploded Mr. Dreadful, "the Court, having with shamelistened to your ribald effusion, I will ask you what you had to drinkupon the night you and the Lord Mayor were found wandering underextraordinary circumstances in Trafalgar Square?"

"To drink--I personally? Nothing. "

"What did you have in the house, sir, at the time?"

"Oh, the usual things. "

"Don't equivocate, sir; how does the Court know what you may considerusual in your ill-regulated household. What did the Lord Mayor partakeof during the period he was in your company, in your rooms, beforegoing out to chase a lady who was under the impression she was aRussian dancer--round Trafalgar Square, and before proceeding to playbo-peep with one of the lions, placed in that Square to ornamentit, --what, I ask, sir, did the Lord Mayor partake of by way ofrefreshment?"

"Oh, two tiny glasses of Crème-de-Menthe. "

_Counsel_ (triumphantly). "I knew it; at last, my Lord, we have themystery explained. The mystery of the Lion's green eyes, thestrangeness of the Lord Mayor's attitude, the strangeness of hisspeech, his dress, all due, my Lord and Gentlemen of the Jury, toCrème-de-Menthe! My Lord, that one phrase explains this whole mystery, and with it I finish my statement of this case, my Lord, finish it withthose three, deadly, green, significant words--Crème-de-Menthe. "

Whereupon, to everybody's relief, the pompom explosions of Mr. Dreadfulceased. The last shell had been fired, followed by the usual whistles, and he sat down. 

The silky tones of Mr. Gentle Gammon came as a positive relief as here-examined and asked gently--

"Have you got the particular bottle of Crème-de-Menthe in Court?"

The Writer said he had brought it. 

The bottle was fetched promptly. 

"My Lord, " observed Mr. Gentle Gammon, "I do not think the amount takencould possibly have had any effect upon anybody. Your Lordshipobserves that the bottle is nearly full, and the bottle produced is theidentical vessel used upon the evening in question. Was any other sortof refreshment partaken of that evening in your chambers?"

"None whatever. "

"One more question before you go. Of course this ballad, rearranged, as you say, from the original by you, was written without any thoughtof giving offence?"

"It was never intended to be published at all. "

"Never intended to be read in Court, of course?"

"_Never_, in the way it was read. "

"Thank you, that is enough, " whereupon the Writer vanished gracefullyfrom the witness-box. 

After this period in the proceedings, if the Learned Judge slumberedonly fitfully during Mr. Dreadful's final peroration, it might havebeen owing to the spasmodic explosions of that Counsel's voice; butthere could be no doubt that the Learned Judge slept peacefully duringthe earlier portions of Mr. Gentle Gammon's final effort upon behalf ofhis client. 

The Learned Judge had, however, a curious habit of hearing particularthings in his sleep, which, like the highly intelligent house-dog, might have been either the result of long training or a naturally keenpossession of the intuitive faculty. His Lordship found frequentoccasion, therefore, to arouse himself in order to interpolate remarksduring the latter half of Mr. Gentle Gammon's closing speech. 

"Who are these sceptics?" demanded Mr. Gammon, "these disbelievers?"After all they had heard that afternoon, might they not verily beapproaching that blissful period when the Lion should lie down with theLamb?. .. 

_His Lordship_ (opening one eye). "But it seems, according toevidence, that the Lion didn't always lie down; it stood up and gave aparty. "

Counsel proceeds: he had not quite finished the beautiful andwell-known simile; here Counsel paused before continuing in a voicemellowed by winning tenderness--

"And the little child shall lead them. "

_Judge_ (again interrupting). "No, no, the Lion, according toevidence, distinctly led the children, even took them to Balham, wegather, in the direction of the tram-lines. "

_Counsel_. "Your Lordship is pleased to interrupt my remarks. "

_Judge_. "No, no, not pleased at all; quite the contrary. "

_Counsel_. "I am sorry to have encountered your Lordship'sdispleasure. "

_His Lordship_ (irritably). "You have not encountered anything yet, save an inability to deal with the evidence, as evidence. "

_Counsel_. "But, my Lord------"

_His Lordship_. "Hush, do not contradict me. Please continue; I shallnot interrupt again. "

_Counsel_. "I thank your Lordship for that assurance. "

_His Lordship_. "Please do not thank me, and do not provoke me. "

_Counsel_ (proceeds, slightly ruffled). He would take another case ofBiblical history; it was without question an ass who had upon a certainoccasion been the one to see when a Lion had stood in his path. Herethe case was unhappily reversed; it was only the asses who couldn't seethe Lion, as he ought to be seen in this case. 

_His Lordship_. "No, I cannot see that. "

_Counsel_. "Your Lordship only makes my remarks more pointed than Iactually intended. "

_His Lordship_. "Please do not set cheap traps or you may one day getcaught in them yourself. "

_Counsel_ (gallantly). "In that case, I can only hope that yourLordship may be there to extricate me by the nimbleness of your wit. "

_His Lordship_ (beaming round upon the Court, and especially uponCounsel). "Very pleasant, very clever; your speech interests me verymuch; pray continue!"

_Learned Counsel_ (continuing). "Shakespeare, our best guide, philosopher, poet, thinker, and prophet, had fitly and mostappropriately even foretold this very matter with regard to the Lion;maybe had prophesied it, when he told us there were sermons in stoneand good in everything. "

_Judge_ (awakening, after dozing). "Good gracious! I alwaysunderstood it was bronze. "

_Counsel_. "Ahem! Yes, my Lord, that is to say stone pedestal, bronzebeast. "

_His Lordship_. "Very well, but when you quote for a purpose alwaysquote with exact correctness. "

_Counsel_ (proceeds). "Did not the creature his Lordship had referredto as the great Pyg--Pyg--Pyg-----"

_His Lordship_ (prompting). "No, no, not a pig, a Lion. "

_Counsel_ (bows, and with a supreme effort of memory recollects theword Pygmalion). "Had not the great Pygmalion so created Galatea thatshe verily became endowed with life, and may we not suppose that thegenius of Sir Edwin Landseer, or whoever carved this wondrous lifelikeLion, might not also have endowed it with some such strange new form ofexistence? Was it reasonable to suppose that what had happened toBeauty might not also happen to the Beast? Take the simple exquisitestatement of this child, this little boy Ridgwell, confirmed by hissister. "

_Judge_ (prompting). "No, no, you can only be actually confirmed by aBishop. "

_Counsel_. "I spoke of another confirmation, my Lord. "

_His Lordship_. "Well, the issue, the issue, what does it show?"

_Counsel_. "My Lord, I will explain at some length carefully. "

His Lordship immediately relapses into another short but placid slumber. 

_Counsel_. "This child Ridgwell, with the imagination worthy ofChristian in the _Pilgrim's Progress_, states simply, and you haveheard for yourselves how beautifully, that the Lion walked and talkedwith him; and as I have used the touching illustration of the Pilgrim'sProgress, with which you are all familiar, I say this child is notalone in his belief that the Lion came to life. There are others totestify, others to write of it, among them a well-known Writer andPoet. This Lion has not been left without a Bunyan. "

_His Lordship_ (waking almost with a start). "No, no! ridiculous; youare mixing matters. All the Lion had was a swelling in the foot causedby a thorn--I know the fable well. "

_Counsel_. "My Lord, believe me, I spoke of a different matter. "

_His Lordship_. "Well, you must not really wander from the point, itmakes it almost impossible for me to follow you, and if I cannot followyou I don't know where you will be. "

_Counsel_ (glibly). "I trust it is I who will always follow yourLordship, and be led, as it were, by your Lordship. "

_His Lordship_ (obviously highly pleased). "Very true, and very aptlyexpressed. Pray do not let me interrupt you. "

_Counsel_ (bowing). "Your Lordship's remarks are in themselves aCommentary, and worthy of all preservation. "

_His Lordship_ (almost playfully). "Exceedingly apt. But I mustrefuse to be prejudiced by your clever advocacy. "

_Counsel_. "And now we come to the touching and beautiful story of theLord Mayor of London, the Right Worshipful" (with a rising inflexion ofadmiration in his voice), "who, after many years, had been knightedlike Dick Whittington. "

_His Lordship_. "What has Dick Whittington and his Cat to do with thepresent Lord Mayor of London and the Lion?"

_Counsel_. "Nothing, my Lord, save that----"

_His Lordship_. "Then please omit it; we have had enough of the fairytale element in this trial without the introduction of any fresh fairystories or nursery rhymes whatever. "

_Counsel_ (continues blandly, as if unconscious of interruption). "TheRight Worshipful knew, and had always known, that one Lion wasdifferent to the others. One only, the one present in Court, wasintelligent, a companion; the other three were _deaf_. "

The Learned Counsel hoped the Gentlemen of the Jury "would not resemblethose other three Lions by being deaf, deaf to the cause of justice, deaf to the interests of his client the Right Worshipful, deaf to thosepromptings of illuminating intelligence which had been especiallyvouchsafed to them as Jurymen, deaf to their duties as citizens in astrange world where there were to be found things even stranger thanthemselves. " Thereupon the Learned Counsel sat down. 

The Jury were asked if they wished to put any questions before HisLordship summed up. 

One juryman, rising, wished to know where Trafalgar Square was, as hehad never seen it. 

Consternation in Court. 

_His Lordship_. "Good gracious, where do you live?"

Juryman was understood to say he had lived all his life upon theborders of Clapham Common. Questioned further with regard to thisextraordinary admission, confessed he had never seen any of the Lionsuntil he met the one in Court. Knew the Griffin well, as he had waitedbeside it during the four different days he had been obliged to come totown for the first time in his life. Had waited from an early houreach morning for several days until his name was called, when thedifferent Jury lists were made up. Obliged to wait so many days onaccount of the names being taken alphabetically on the List, hisbeginning with Y, his name being Yobb. 

After this brief interlude his Lordship appeared to rouse himself upand proceeded to sum up at one and the same time. His Lordshipcommenced by observing that the case before them that day was withoutexception the most extraordinary case that had ever come before himsince he had presided as a judge. The Learned Judge considered thatthe child Ridgwell was exempt from--er--er--any deliberate desire topervert facts. This boy claimed that he had become the recipient ofsome High Order of Imagination. He, the Learned Judge, had not theremotest idea what this order meant, and he firmly believed nobody elsein Court had the faintest conception either concerning such apossession. However, children would be children, which wasunfortunate, as he himself considered that children should be always, ahem! grown up, yes, or nearly always. That is to say, as often as waspossible. 

But the defendant, Mr. Learnéd Bore, had not even got the plea ofchildishness to excuse some of the very reprehensible, if not flippant, statements he had dared to make in the witness-box. 

As a writer, the Learned Judge had always been led to believe that Mr. Learnéd Bore was quite intelligent; as a witness, the Learned Judgeconsidered him deplorable. That a Lord Mayor of London, of London, perhaps the most beautiful and dignified city in the world, with a fewarchitectural exceptions which the Learned Judge deplored, but--ahem!--allowed; that the Lord Mayor of this City with theglittering chains of that High Office still weighing down his neck, yetwearing his crimson robes, which the Learned Judge hoped blushed forhim, as indeed his, the Learned Judge's own robes did, which he was atthat moment wearing. That this Lord Mayor should utter the still morecrimson falsehoods and fabrication of fairy folk, was well-nighinconceivable. 

The Learned Judge could only suppose such a state of Civic imbecilitywas due to the decadence of the times in which they had the misfortuneto live. It was the first indication that the downfall of London, likethat of Rome, and--er--other cities he could not at the momentrecall--was at hand. 

It showed, in the Learned Judge's opinion, that the Navy should at oncebe strengthened, the Board Schools increased, and the Asylums for allthose who were mentally afflicted, and therefore so unlike themselves, should immediately be enlarged throughout the country, in order to copewith the extra call upon them that such a state of things as they hadlistened to that day might necessitate. 

Furthermore, the Learned Judge remembered with gratitude the manypetitions to the Royal Family, who, he was thankful to note, were neverafflicted or influenced by any imagination whatsoever; therefore hebegged that those petitions might be increased fourfoldfor--for--reasons which at that moment he found it impossible toexplain. 

He furthermore would remember with gratitude, and would increase ifpossible, the numbers of institutions for the blind, not to mention thedeaf. During this action they had listened in very truth, and notunmoved, to people who had been blind. (Here a faint titter beingheard in Court, the Learned Judge added reprovingly--)

He did not intend his last remark as a joke, having regard to theevidence one man had given. No, it was no matter upon which to joke. The blind were there before them, and he had used the expression thedeaf, inasmuch that some of those before him had heard too much. 

To hear too much was worse than not hearing enough. One of the Jury atthis critical point, as if speaking upon impulse: "Hear! hear!"

His Lordship paused in passionate surprise; indignantly wonderingwhether or not the Gentleman of the Jury, whose face appeared to becovered with purposeless pimples, had really intended his last remarkto be ambiguous. 

Upon feeling himself reassured upon this point, the Learned Judgeremarked: "Any more unseemly interruptions of this nature, and I shallclear the Court, not--ahem!--personally, but--er--vicariously, so tospeak. Where was I?" (consulting notes). "Yes, at the House ofCommons. The House of Commons, whose common sense as a body havehelped to make the--ahem!--Irish and the English as one. "

Where was the House of Commons now? He was thankful to say, where ithad always been. 

Would any one of the Members of that House believe that OliverCromwell, who had stood so long outside, had condescended to alightfrom his pedestal to shout vulgar abuse and brawling words at KingRichard and King Charles, such as "Ha! ha!" and "Ho!"? He trusted not, he believed not; but if, indeed, such a thing could be possible, hetrusted that Oliver Cromwell, if he could by special Providence be nowactually alive, would verily with laughter say, "Ha! ha!" and even "Ho!ho!" to the ridiculous statements they had heard that day. In face ofthe many indignities offered to them he was thankful to note, since itwas admitted in evidence, that King Richard, and especially KingCharles, had kept their heads. He, the Learned Judge, again expresseda hope that no one would interpret his last remark as being facetious. Nothing was at that moment further from his thoughts. To joke in aCourt of Law, or even attempt to joke beneath the emblazoned sign ofthe Lion and Unicorn somewhere above his head, would be to mock thatnoble animal (he referred to the Lion, of course), whose other effigyin Court formed such a striking contrast to the undignified attitude ofthose who had preferred such fanciful charges against this noblystatured beast, whose presence there among them, as Counsel hadobserved, was only rendered possible by the separate removal of _five_pairs of folding doors. 

"Little imagination was required to realise that the stony stare ofthis noble animal must, Medusa-like, have become even more stony fromhorror and abhorrence at the eccentric things it could not hear, uttered concerning himself, I mean itself, that day. 

"Now, Gentlemen of the Jury, you know what I have been talking about?"

The face of each and every Juryman a complete blank save one, whomurmurs as if in his sleep, "No! no!"

"I therefore charge you, consider only that which is right, punishthose, if any, who should be punished, spare the simple, if any, whoshould be spared. Commend any, if there are any such, for theirintelligence in reporting a matter which they, like myself, are utterlyunable to understand. If none in this affair should be reproved, thenI charge you hereafter keep silent. 

"Learn a lesson from the statue of the Lion in Court, who has remainedsilent throughout, and whose wisdom in this respect I cannot too muchcommend, whilst heartily wishing its example could have been followedby every one in Court with the exception of myself. 

"By the many witnesses in general, but by one in particular; I refer toMr. Learnéd Bore. Gentlemen, you need no other words of mine to makeyou do your duty. 

"Words will never make people do their duty. Therefore, in havingspared you much, I can only feel that I have helped you little. Gentlemen of the Jury, the matter having got thoroughly into yourheads, is now in your hands. I therefore leave it there. "

Here the Learned Judge ceased speaking. The Learned Judge havingrefreshed himself after this amazing forensic effort with a draughtfrom the glass of water beside him, which, during the proceedings, hadbecome lukewarm, gathered his robes about him and hopped through thefolding doors at the back of him, into his private room. 

The Jury, looking like men suddenly out of work, repaired in a body totheir room, and once again the overcrowded and overheated Court gaveitself over to the buzz and hum of conversation, freely interspersedwith endless speculations as to what sort of verdict could possibly bereturned in such an amazing case. 

The Right Worshipful warmly thanked his Counsel, Mr. Gentle Gammon, forthe brilliant efforts that gentleman had made upon his behalf, whilstMr. Dreadful, K. C. , glared unspeakable things in the direction of thePlaintiff and Plaintiff's Counsel alternately, for the entire case hadfilled Mr. Dreadful, K. C. , with feelings of revolt. 

Juniors not engaged on the case made whispered and sporting bets amongthemselves as to who would get the verdict. The amber lightilluminating the Court continued to gleam upon the Pleasant-Faced Lion, unquestionably the most reposeful thing inside the building, althoughthe primary cause of all the disturbance. 

"Of course, " observed Ridgwell to the Writer, "we shall know now whohas won the game. "

The Writer agreed. 

"Will the old gentleman in the red robe call out the forfeits then?"

"Rather, " replied the Writer, "and I fancy, myself, the heaviestforfeit will be the one which includes bringing Lal into Court; it musthave really cost a very considerable sum. Hullo, they are all comingback, " broke off the Writer, "all the Jury, looking as if they havelost their way, which I believe, myself, they have, during the entirecase. There, they are summoning his Lordship. Now for it. "

Upon his Lordship resuming his seat, the foreman of the Jury deliveredhimself thus, upon behalf of himself and his other eleven brethren. 

"The Jury had all tasted and partaken of the Crème-de-Menthe" (bottleproduced and the contents seen to be very considerably diminished), "and they found that the Right Worshipful the Lord Mayor of Londoncould not have been suffering from any form of intoxication in theordinary acceptance of the word, but that the Lord Mayor might havebeen temporarily intoxicated with a sense of his own greatness. Thatthe noble Statue of the British Lion was regarded by the Lord Mayormerely as a symbol of the whole British Empire, and was emblematical ofhis own power under that Empire. Consequently no blame whatever couldbe attached to him. 

"They further found that Mr. Learnéd Bore had forthwith unquestionablyuttered a libel against the Lord Mayor which might have been a grosslibel, had it not been merely a stupid assertion published in anewspaper, and not therefore to be taken seriously. 

"They found that Mr. Learnéd Bore's evidence was flippant, and leftmuch to be desired; they wished accordingly to severely censure thatgentleman. 

"Damages, therefore, in the case, although slight, would be given tohis Worship the Lord Mayor, together with all costs of the action. 

"With regard to the Writer and Poet, they, the Jury, wished to severelycondemn all the works he had written, or _partly_ written, since he hadproduced, or partly composed, one wholly seditious ballad, attemptingto make fun of the Laws of England, whereupon they expressed an earnesthope that all his works might in future be banned. "

His Lordship, after partaking of a final sip of the lukewarm waterstill beside him, then delivered his verdict. 

"His Lordship entirely agreed that the Lord Mayor of London had beenquite blameless throughout this case, the Lord Mayor's devotion to theBritish Lion as a symbol, was the most touching feature in the case; hewould therefore have damages against Mr. Learnéd Bore, and Mr. LearnédBore would have to bear the entire costs of the Action. 

"The damages in this Case would not be the unsatisfactory damagessometimes assessed at one farthing, nor would they be one shilling, oreven half-a-crown. The damages he, the Learned Judge, awarded would bea sum sufficient to purchase a bottle of Crème-de-Menthe, and that ofthe very best (sensation in Court), to be given to his Worshipful theLord Mayor in order to show that the fluid which had figured soconspicuously in this Case, although it might do some people harm, could only do good in the case of his Worshipful the Lord Mayor, since, to use Counsel's borrowed, but apt phrase, this liquid had only made itpossible for the Lord Mayor to see sermons in bronze and stone, andgood in everything; good even in the effigy of the Pleasant-Faced Lion, who had been brought into Court for the first time in its life, andwho, could it have the power of hearing, must surely approve of theverdict now given. "

The Learned Judge, having thus delivered himself, then rose, and oncemore hopped out of Court. 

The sensation throughout the entire Court was profound. 

 * * * * *

Some considerable time after the Writer had hurried Ridgwell from thescene, and had provided a quite sumptuous tea, which both of them stoodin need of, in a tea-shop in Fleet Street, they repaired upon the wayhome, and passed the statue of the Griffin. 

"Look, " whispered Ridgwell, as he pulled the sleeve of the Writer'scoat to attract the Writer's attention. "Oh, look, the Griffin hasbeen weeping bitterly. "

It was, indeed, only too true. The Griffin's cup of sorrow andmortification was full. Four great indignant tears trembled upon hischeeks ready to fall. He had been compelled that day to stand andlisten to people humming his, the Griffin's, own, pet song as they leftthe Court, and the Griffin had not been able to join in it. 

The Pleasant-Faced Lion had gone into the Court and had left it intriumph, cheered by enthusiastic and interested crowds, whilst _he_, the Griffin, had remained unnoticed. The Griffin's feet were very, very cold, and his vain, foolish, excitement-loving heart had turned tostone. 

Having contemplated this sad spectacle, the Writer and Ridgwellclambered upon the outside of a bus going westward. Half-way up theStrand the road was partly blocked by a concourse of cheering people. As their bus came alongside, Ridgwell and the Writer both stood up tolook over the bus rail to see what was causing all the commotion. Itwas the Pleasant-Faced Lion being escorted back to Trafalgar Square instate upon a lorry. The crowd cheered enthusiastically upon viewingthe unusual sight. 

As the Writer and Ridgwell gazed at their old friend, thePleasant-Faced Lion slowly, solemnly, and deliberately winked his righteye, which was nearest to them. 

 * * * * *

The Father and Mother of Ridgwell and Christine, upon returning from amost enjoyable holiday upon the Continent, could not avoid seeing thelarge headlines of the evening papers pasted everywhere upon thestation boards at Charing Cross. 

The headlines were varied; some of them read, "Comic Opera Scene inCourt. " "Amusing Case before Mr. Justice Chatty. " "Ridgwell Makes allLondon Laugh. "

"Very uncommon name, " observed the Father of Ridgwell, as he boughtsome papers. Later on, in the railway carriage upon the way home, theFather of Ridgwell first read his paper, and then promptly wiped hiseyeglasses, to assure himself that he was not dreaming. 

"Good gracious!" exclaimed that worthy but astonished gentleman, "why, it's _our_ Ridgwell!"

"What is our Ridgwell?" inquired the Mother of that hopeful. 

"Our Ridgwell has been into Court, before a Judge, " faltered hisperplexed Father; "has sung a song, which seems to have been a greatsuccess. Positively gave evidence that one of the lions in TrafalgarSquare was alive, and a great friend of his, and that the animal hasoccasionally given him a free ride home on his back to Balham; did youever hear of such a thing?"

The Mother of Ridgwell hastily perused the papers recording thesestrange statements, whilst the Father of Ridgwell leaned back in therailway carriage, endeavouring to recover his breath, and collect hisstartled faculties both together. 

The Mother of Ridgwell read the part describing her offspring'sperformance to the end, and then observed--

"Did you see, Father, that Ridgwell declares he possessed a high Orderof Imagination, and then lost it?"

The Father of Ridgwell groaned. 

"Lost it? Good gracious me, what nonsense, my dear; I should thinkmyself he has just found it. I'll talk to that Writer, when I see him;he really oughtn't to be allowed about at large, any more than thePleasant-Faced Lion. I consider the whole history of this animal mostincredible. "

CHAPTER XI

THE END OF THE MATTER

The family had just sat down to breakfast when the Writer arrived atBalham in a taxi-cab, bearing two large cardboard dress-boxes with him. 

Having deposited these articles, he was greeted by the family. 

"Oh! you bad man, " commenced the Mother of Ridgwell and Christine; "sitdown and have breakfast at once before you start any more of thoseplausible tales of yours. "

"How did you get here so early?" inquired Father. 

"Took a taxi, but it wasn't half such fun as riding down here on aLion's back!"

Ridgwell leaned one side of his head down upon the table and laughed, and Christine glanced round shyly. 

"A fine sort of commotion you and Ridgwell have caused, " protestedFather; "listen to this paragraph out of this morning's paper. "

The Writer actually appeared to enjoy eating his breakfast unabashed, whilst Father proceeded to read. 

"'The amusing action which took place yesterday in Court X---- has beenthe cause of unprecedented scenes in London. Thousands of children, both boys and girls, throng Trafalgar Square in order to see if thePleasant-Faced Lion intends to speak, or give another children's party. 

"'Hundreds of children congregate every minute round the Griffin'sstatue, waiting for it to sing, and have to be moved on good-naturedlybut firmly by the police. '"

"A nice state of things, " commented Father, during a pause in thereading. 

"'There can be no doubt whatever that the extraordinary story of Lalhas interested all London, and everybody is laughing at the idea. 

"'Sir Simon Gold, the Lord Mayor of London, with the usualthoughtfulness that always distinguishes him, has resolved that theLondon children shall not be disappointed with regard to a party. SirSimon has therefore taken the four biggest public halls, in the fourquarters of London, north, south, east, and west, and all the childrenof London in each district will be entertained upon behalf of thePleasant-Faced Lion by the Lord Mayor to a delightful evening party thesame evening that the Lord Mayor gives his usual children's party atthe Mansion House. '"

"I can add something to that piece of news, " observed the Writer, as hecontinued eating his breakfast happily, and totally unconscious, seemingly, of his many misdoings. "In those two big cardboard boxesare two costumes; they are presents from Mum, one for Ridgwell, and theother for Christine. Oh, no!--not to be opened until after breakfast. Now, upon the night of the parties an event is going to take place thatwill please everybody. The Lord Mayor wants both Ridgwell andChristine to tell the story of Lal at each party after the dancing. Itwill be the event of the evening, and will be illustrated on thecinematograph. "

"Oh!" echoed Ridgwell and Christine, "what fun!"

"All very fine for all of you, " protested Father, "but I have to go totown to-day on business, and if I cannot get past Fleet Street or theGriffin on account of all the children round it, what am I to do, andhow am I to get along with my work?"

Christine and Ridgwell sidled up, one upon either side of Father'schair. 

"Don't you know you ought to be very pleased?" they said. 

"Why?" inquired Father. 

"Because the Griffin is happy at last, he is being noticed. "

The Writer laughed: the Writer was really a most unscrupulous person asto the source from which he derived amusement. 

"It is a very incredible tale, " remarked Father, severely. 

"_Most_ incredible, " confessed Mother, with a smile. 

THE END