`AS bald as bald' was the bewildering reply. `Now, Bruno,I'll tell you a story.'

`And I'll tell oo a story,' said Bruno, beginning in agreat hurry for fear of Sylvie getting the start of him: `once there werea Mouse--a little tiny Mouse--such a tiny little Mouse! Oo never saw sucha tiny Mouse--'

`Did nothing ever happen to it, Bruno?' I asked. `Haven'tyou anything more to tell us, besides its being so tiny?'

`Nothing never happened to it,' Bruno solemnly replied.

`Why did nothing never happen to it?' said Sylvie, whowas sitting, with her head on Bruno's shoulder, patiently waiting for achance of beginning her story.

`It were too tiny,' Bruno explained.

`That's no reason!' I said. `However tiny it was, thingsmight happen to it.'

Bruno looked pityingly at me, as if he thought me verystupid. `It were too tiny,' he repeated. `If anything happened to it, itwould die--it were so very tiny!'

`Really that's enough about its being tiny!' Sylvie putin. `Haven't you invented any more about it?'

`Haven't invented no more yet.'

`Well, then, you shouldn't begin a story till you've inventedmore! Now be quiet, there's a good boy, and listen to my story.'

And Bruno, having quite exhausted all his inventive faculty,by beginning in too great a hurry, quietly resigned himself to listening.`Tell about the other Bruno, please,' he said coaxingly.

Sylvie put her arms round his neck, and began:--

`The wind was whispering among the trees,' (`That wasn'tgood manners!' Bruno interrupted. `Never mind about manners,' said Sylvie)`and it was evening--a nice moony evening, and the Owls were hooting--'

`Pretend they weren't Owls!' Bruno pleaded, stroking hercheek with his fat little hand. `I don't like Owls. Owls have such greatbig eyes. Pretend they were Chickens!'

`Are you afraid of their great big eyes, Bruno?' I said.

`Aren't `fraid of nothing,' Bruno answered in as carelessa tone as he could manage: `they're ugly with their great big eyes. I thinkif they cried, the tears would be as big--oh, as big as the moon!' Andhe laughed merrily. `Doos Owls cry ever, Mister Sir?'

`Owls cry never,' I said gravely, trying to copy Bruno'sway of speaking: `they've got nothing to be sorry for, you know.'

`Oh, but they have!' Bruno exclaimed. `They're ever sosorry, `cause they killed the poor little Mouses!'

`But they're not sorry when they're hungry, I suppose?'

`Oo don't know nothing about Owls!' Bruno scornfully remarked.`When they're hungry, they're very, very sorry they killed the little Mouses,`cause if they hadn't killed them there'd be sumfin for supper, oo know!'

Bruno was evidently getting into a dangerously inventivestate of mind, so Sylvie broke in with `Now I'm going on with the story.So the Owls--the Chickens, I mean--were looking to see if they could finda nice fat Mouse for their supper--'

`Pretend it was a nice `abbit!' said Bruno.

`But it wasn't a nice habit, to kill Mouses,' Sylvie argued.`I ca'n't pretend that!'

`I didn't say "habit", oo silly fellow!' Bruno repliedwith a merry twinkle in his eye. `'abbits--that runs about in the fields!'

`Rabbit? Well it can be a Rabbit, if you like. But youmustn't alter my story so much, Bruno. A Chicken couldn't eat a Rabbit!'

`But it might have wished to see if it could try to eatit.'

`Well, it wished to see if it could try--oh, really, Bruno,that's nonsense! I shall go back to the Owls.'

`Well, then, pretend they hadn't great eyes!'

`And they saw a little Boy,' Sylvie went on, disdainingto make any further corrections. `And he asked them to tell him a story.And the Owls hooted and flew away--' (`Oo shouldn't say "flewed"; oo shouldsay "flied",' Bruno whispered. But Sylvie wouldn't hear.) `And he met aLion. And he asked the Lion to tell him a story. And the Lion said "yes",it would. And, while the Lion was telling him the story, it nibbled someof his head off--'

`Don't say "nibbled"!' Bruno entreated. `Only little thingsnibble--little thin sharp things, with edges--'

`Well, then, it "nubbled",' said Sylvie. `And when ithad nubbled all his head off, he went away, and he never said "thank you"!'

`That were very rude,' said Bruno. `If he couldn't speak,he might have nodded--no, he couldn't nod. Well, he might have shaked handswith the Lion!'

`Oh, I'd forgotten that part!' said Sylvie. `He did shakehands with it. He came back again, you know, and he thanked the Lion verymuch, for telling him the story.'

`Then his head had growed up again?' said Bruno.

`Oh yes, it grew up in a minute. And the Lion begged pardon,and said it wouldn't nubble off little boys' heads--not never no more!'

Bruno looked much pleased at this change of events. `Nowthat are a really nice story!' he said. `Aren't it a nice story, MisterSir?'

`Very,' I said. `I would like to hear another story aboutthat Boy.'

`So would I,' said Bruno, stroking Sylvie's cheek again.`Please tell about Bruno's Picnic; and don't talk about nubbly Lions!'

`I wo'n't, if it frightens you,' said Sylvie.

`Flightens me!' Bruno exclaimed indignantly. `It isn'tthat! It's `cause "nubbly"'s such a grumbly word to say--when one person'sgot her head on another person's shoulder. When she talks like that,' heexclaimed to me, `the talking goes down bofe sides of my face--all theway to my chin--and it doos tickle so! It's enough to make a beard grow,that it is!'

He said this with great severity, but it was evidentlymeant for a joke: so Sylvie laughed--a delicious musical little laugh,and laid her soft cheek on the top of her brother's curly head, as if itwere a pillow, while she went on with the story. `So this Boy--'

`But it wasn't me, oo know!' Bruno interrupted. `And ooneedn't try to look as if it was, Mister Sir!'

I represented, respectfully, that I was trying to lookas if it wasn't.

`--he was a middling good Boy--'

`He were a welly good Boy!' Bruno corrected her. `Andhe never did nothing he wasn't told to do--'

`That doesn't make a good Boy!' Sylvie said contemptuously.

`That do make a good Boy!' Bruno insisted.

Sylvie gave up the point. `Well, he was a very good Boy,and he always kept his promises, and he had a big cupboard--'

`--for to keep all his promises in!' cried Bruno.

`If he kept all his promises,' Sylvie said, with a mischievouslook in her eyes, `he wasn't like some Boys I know of!'

`He had to put salt with them, a-course,' Bruno said gravely:`oo ca'n't keep promises when there isn't any salt. And he kept his birthdayon the second shelf.'

`How long did he keep his birthday?' I asked. `I nevercan keep mine more than twenty-four hours.'

`Why, a birthday stays that long by itself!' cried Bruno.`Oo doosn't know how to keep birthdays! This Boy kept his a whole year!'

`And then the next birthday would begin,' said Sylvie.`So it would be his birthday always.'

`So it were,' said Bruno. `Doos oo have treats on oorbirthday, Mister Sir?'

`Sometimes,' I said.

`When oo're good, I suppose?'

`Why, it is a sort of treat, being good, isn't it?' Isaid.

`A sort of treat!' Bruno repeated. `It's a sort of punishment,I think!'

`Oh, Bruno!' Sylvie interrupted, almost sadly. `How canyou?'

`Well, but it is,' Bruno persisted. `Why, look here, MisterSir! This is being good!' And he sat bolt upright, and put on an absurdlysolemn face. `First oo must sit up as straight as pokers--'

`--as a poker,' Sylvie corrected him.

`--as straight as pokers,' Bruno firmly repeated. `Thenoo must clasp oor hands--so. Then--"Why hasn't oo brushed oor hair? Goand brush it toreckly!" Then--"Oh, Bruno, oo mustn't dog's-ear the daisies!"Did oo learn oor spelling wiz daisies, Mister Sir?'

`I want to hear about that Boy's Birthday,' I said.

Bruno returned to the story instantly. `Well, so thisBoy said "Now it's my Birthday!" And so--I'm tired!' he suddenly brokeoff, laying his head in Sylvie's lap. `Sylvie knows it best. Sylvie's grown-upperthan me. Go on Sylvie!'

Sylvie patiently took up the thread of the story again.`So he said "Now it's my Birthday. Whatever shall I do to keep my Birthday?"All good little Boys--' (Sylvie turned away from Bruno, and made a greatpretence of whispering to me) `--all good little Boys--Boys that learntheir lessons quite perfect--they always keep their birthdays, you know.So of course this little Boy kept his Birthday.'

`Oo may call him Bruno, if oo like,' the little fellowcarelessly remarked. `It weren't me, but it makes it more interesting.'

`So Bruno said to himself "The properest thing to do isto have a Picnic, all by myself, on the top of the hill. And I'll takesome Milk and some Bread, and some Apples: and first, and foremost, I wantsome Milk!" So, first, and foremost, Bruno took a milk-pail--'

`And he went and milkted the Cow!' Bruno put in.

`Yes,' said Sylvie, meekly accepting the new verb. `Andthe Cow said "Moo! What are you going to do with all that Milk?" And Brunosaid "Please'm, I want it for my Picnic." And the Cow said "Moo! I hopeyou wo'n't boil any of it?" And Bruno said "No, indeed I wo'n't! New Milk'sso nice and so warm, it wants no boiling!"'

`It doesn't want no boiling,' Bruno offered as an amendedversion.

`So Bruno put the Milk in a bottle. And then Bruno said"Now I want some Bread!" So he went to the Oven, and he took out a deliciousnew Loaf. And the Oven--'.

`--ever so light and so puffy!' Bruno impatiently correctedher. `Oo shouldn't leave out so many words!'

Sylvie humbly apologized. `--a delicious new Loaf, everso light and so puffy. And the Oven said--' Here Sylvie made a long pause.`Really I don't know what an Oven begins with, when it wants to speak!'

Both children looked appealingly at me; but I could onlysay, helplessly, `I haven't the least idea! I never heard an Oven speak!'

For a minute or two we all sat silent; and then Brunosaid, very softly, `Oven begins wiz "O".'

`Good little boy!' Sylvie exclaimed. `He does his spellingvery nicely. He's cleverer than he knows!' she added, aside, to me. `Sothe Oven said "O! What are you going to do with all that Bread?" And Brunosaid "Please--" Is an Oven "Sir" or "'m", would you say?' She looked tome for a reply.

`Both, I think,' seemed to me the safest thing to say.

Sylvie adopted the suggestion instantly. `So Bruno said"Please, Sirm, I want it for my Picnic." And the Oven said "O! But I hopeyou wo'n't toast any of it?" And Bruno said, "No, indeed I wo'n't! NewBread's so light and so puffy, it wants no toasting!"'

`It never doesn't want no toasting,' said Bruno. `I wissoo wouldn't say it so short!'

`So Bruno put the Bread in the hamper. Then Bruno said"Now I want some Apples!" So he took the hamper, and he went to the Apple-Tree,and he picked some lovely ripe Apples. And the Apple-Tree said--' Herefollowed another long pause.

Bruno adopted his favourite expedient of tapping his forehead;while Sylvie gazed earnestly upwards, as if she hoped for some suggestionfrom the birds, who were singing merrily among the branches overhead. Butno result followed.

`What does an Apple-Tree begin with, when it wants tospeak?' Sylvie murmured despairingly, to the irresponsive birds.

At last, taking a leaf out of Bruno's book, I venturedon a remark. `Doesn't "Apple-Tree" always begin with Eh!"?'

`Why, of course it does! How clever of you!' Sylvie crieddelightedly.

Bruno jumped up, and patted me on the head. I tried notto feel conceited.

`So the Apple-Tree said "Eh! What are you going to dowith all those Apples?" And Bruno said "Please, Sir, I want them for myPicnic." And the Apple-Tree said "Eh! But I hope you wo'n't bake any ofthem?" And Bruno said "No, indeed I wo'n't! Ripe Apples are so nice andso sweet, they want no baking!"'

`They never doesn't--' Bruno was beginning, but Sylviecorrected herself before he could get the words out.

`"They never doesn't nohow want no baking." So Bruno putthe Apples in the hamper, along with the Bread, and the bottle of Milk.And he set off to have a Picnic, on the top of the hill, all by himself--'

`He wasn't greedy, oo know, to have it all by himself,'Bruno said, patting me on the cheek to call my attention; `'cause he hadn'tgot no brothers and sisters.'

`It was very sad to have no sisters, wasn't it?' I said.

`Well, I don't know,' Bruno said thoughtfully; `'causehe hadn't no lessons to do. So he didn't mind.'

Sylvie went on. `So, as he was walking along the road,he heard behind him such a curious sort of noise--a sort of a Thump! Thump!Thump! "Whatever is that?" said Bruno. "Oh, I know!" said Bruno. "Why,it's only my Watch a-ticking!"'

`Were it his Watch a-ticking?' Bruno asked me, with eyesthat fairly sparkled with mischievous delight.

`No doubt of it!' I replied. And Bruno laughed exultingly.

`Then Bruno thought a little harder. And he said "No!it ca'n't be my Watch a-ticking; because I haven't got a Watch!"'

Bruno peered up anxiously into my face, to see how I tookit. I hung my head, and put a thumb into my mouth, to the evident delightof the little fellow.

`So Bruno went a little further along the road. And thenhe heard it again, that queer noise--Thump! Thump! Thump! "Whatever isthat?" said Bruno. "Oh, I know!" said Bruno. "Why, it's only the Carpentera-mending my Wheelbarrow!"'

`Were it the Carpenter a-mending his Wheelbarrow?' Brunoasked me.

I brightened up, and said `It must have been!' in a toneof absolute conviction.

Bruno threw his arms round Sylvie's neck. `Sylvie!' hesaid, in a perfectly audible whisper. `He says it must have been!'

`Then Bruno thought a little harder. And he said "No!It ca'n't be the Carpenter a-mending my Wheelbarrow, because I haven'tgot a Wheelbarrow!"

This time I hid my face in my hands, quite unable to meetBruno's look of triumph.

`So Bruno went a little further along the road. And thenhe heard that queer noise again--Thump! Thump! Thump! So he thought he'dlook round, this time, just to see what it was. And what should it be buta great Lion!'

`A great big Lion,' Bruno corrected her.

`A great big Lion. And Bruno was ever so frightened, andhe ran--'

`No, he wasn't flightened a bit!' Bruno interrupted. (Hewas evidently anxious for the reputation of his name-sake.) `He runnedaway to get a good look at the Lion; 'cause he wanted to see if it werethe same Lion what used to nubble little Boys' heads off; and he wantedto know how big it was!'

`Well, he ran away, to get a good look at the Lion. Andthe Lion trotted slowly after him. And the Lion called after him, in avery gentle voice, "Little Boy, little Boy! You needn't be afraid of me!I'm a very gentle old Lion now. I never nubble little Boys' heads off,as I used to do." And so Bruno said "Don't you really, Sir? Then what doyou live on?" And the Lion--'

`Oo see he weren't a bit flightened!' Bruno said to me,patting my cheek again. `'cause he remembered to call it "Sir", oo know.'

I said that no doubt that was the real test whether aperson was frightened or not.

`And the Lion said "Oh, I live on bread-and-butter, andcherries, and marmalade, and plum-cake--"'

`--and apples!' Bruno put in.

`Yes, "and apples". And Bruno said "Wo'n't you come withme to my Picnic?" And the Lion said "Oh, I should like it very much indeed!"And Bruno and the Lion went away together.' Sylvie stopped suddenly.

`Is that all?' I asked, despondingly.

`Not quite all,' Sylvie slily replied `There's a sentenceor two more. Isn't there, Bruno?'

`Yes,' with a carelessness that was evidently put on:`just a sentence or two more.'

`And, as they were walking along, they looked over a hedge,and who should they see but a little black Lamb! And the Lamb was everso frightened. And it ran--'

`It were really flightened!' Bruno put in.

`It ran away. And Bruno ran after it. And he called "LittleLamb! You needn't be afraid of this Lion! It never kills things! It liveson cherries, and marmalade--"'

`--and apples!' said Bruno. `Oo always forgets the apples!'

`And Bruno said "Wo'n't you come with us to my Picnic?"And the Lamb said "Oh, I should like it very much indeed, if my Ma willlet me!" And Bruno said "Let's go and ask your Ma!" And they went to theold Sheep. And Bruno said "Please, may your little Lamb come to my Picnic?"And the Sheep said "Yes, if it's learnt all its lessons." And the Lambsaid "Oh yes, Ma! I've learnt all my lessons!"'

`Pretend it hadn't any lessons!' Bruno earnestly pleaded.

`Oh, that would never do!' said Sylvie. `I ca'n't leaveout all about the lessons! And the old Sheep said "Do you know your A BC yet? Have you learnt A?" And the Lamb said "Oh yes, Ma! I went to theA-field, and I helped them to make A!" "Very good, my child! And have youlearnt B?" "Oh yes, Ma! I went to the B-hive, and the B gave me some honey!""Very good, my child! And have you learnt C?" "Oh yes, Ma! I went to theC-side, and I saw the ships sailing on the C!" "Very good, my child! Youmay go to Bruno's Picnic."'

`So they set off. And Bruno walked in the middle, so thatthe Lamb mightn't see the Lion--'

`It were flightened,' Bruno explained.

`Yes, and it trembled so; and it got paler and paler;and, before they'd got to the top of the hill, it was a white little Lamb--aswhite as snow!'

`But Bruno weren't flightened!' said the owner of thatname. `So he staid black!'

`No, he didn't stay black! He staid pink!' laughed Sylvie.`I shouldn't kiss you like this, you know, if you were black!'

`Oo'd have to!' Bruno said with great decision. `Besides,Bruno wasn't Bruno, oo know--I mean, Bruno wasn't me--I mean--don't talknonsense, Sylvie!'

`I wo'n't do it again!' Sylvie said very humbly. `Andso, as they went along, the Lion said "Oh, I'll tell you what I used todo when I was a young Lion. I used to hide behind trees, to watch for littleBoys."' (Bruno cuddled a little closer to her.) `"And, if a little thinscraggy Boy came by, why, I used to let him go. But, if a little fat juicy--"'

Bruno could bear no more. `Pretend he wasn't juicy!' hepleaded, half-sobbing.

`Nonsense, Bruno!' Sylvie briskly replied. `It'll be donein a moment! "--if a little fat juicy Boy came by, why, I used to springout and gobble him up! Oh, you've no idea what a delicious thing it is--alittle juicy Boy!" And Bruno said "Oh, if you please, Sir, don't talk abouteating little boys! It makes me so shivery!"'

The real Bruno shivered, in sympathy with the hero.

`And the Lion said "Oh, well, we wo'n't talk about it,then! I'll tell you what happened on my wedding-day--"'

`I like this part better,' said Bruno, patting my cheekto keep me awake.

`"There was, oh, such a lovely wedding-breakfast! At oneend of the table there was a large plum-pudding. And at the other end therewas a nice roasted Lamb! Oh, you've no idea what a delicious thing it is--anice roasted Lamb!" And the Lamb said "Oh, if you please, Sir, don't talkabout eating Lambs! It makes me so shivery!" And the Lion said "Oh, well,we wo'n't talk about it, then!"'