“Well, he ran away, to get a good look at the Lion. And the Lion trotted slowly after him. And the Lion called after him, in a very 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 do you 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 a person was frightened or not.
“And the Lion said ‘Oh, I live on bread-and-butter, and cherries, and marmalade, and plum-cake—’ ”
“—and apples!” Bruno put in.
“Yes, ‘and apples.’ And Bruno said ‘Won’t you come with me 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 slyly replied. “There’s a sentence or 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 ever so frightened. And it ran—”
“It were really flightened!” Bruno put in.
“It ran away. And Bruno ran after it. And he called ‘Little Lamb! You needn’t be afraid of this Lion! It never kills things! It lives on cherries, and marmalade—’ ”
“—and apples!” said Bruno. “Oo always forgets the apples!”
“And Bruno said ‘won’t you come with us to my Picnic?’ And the Lamb said ‘Oh, I should like it very much indeed, if my Ma will let me!’ And Bruno said ‘Let’s go and ask your Ma!’ And they went to the old 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 Lamb said ‘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 can’t leave out all about the lessons! And the old Sheep said ‘Do you know your A.B.C. yet? Have you learnt A?’ And the Lamb said ‘Oh yes, Ma! I went to the A-field, and I helped them to make A!’ ‘Very good, my child! And have you learnt 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 the C-side, and I saw the ships sailing on the C!’ ‘Very good, my child! You may go to Bruno’s Picnic.’
“So they set off. And Bruno walked in the middle, so that the 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—as white as snow!”
“But Bruno weren’t flightened!” said the owner of that name. “So he stayed black!”
“No, he didn’t stay black! He stayed 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 talk nonsense, Sylvie!”
“I won’t do it again!” Sylvie said very humbly. “And so, as they went along, the Lion said ‘Oh, I’ll tell you what I used to do when I was a young Lion. I used to hide behind trees, to watch for little Boys.’ ” (Bruno cuddled a little closer to her.) “ ‘And, if a little thin scraggy 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!” he pleaded, half-sobbing.
“Nonsense, Bruno!” Sylvie briskly replied. “It’ll be done in a moment! ‘—if a little fat juicy Boy came by, why, I used to spring out and gobble him up! Oh, you’ve no idea what a delicious thing it is—a little juicy Boy!’ And Bruno said ‘Oh, if you please, Sir, don’t talk about eating little boys! It makes me so shivery!’ ”
The real Bruno shivered, in sympathy with the hero.
“And the Lion said ‘Oh, well, we won’t talk about it, then! I’ll tell you what happened on my wedding-day—’ ”
“I like this part better,” said Bruno, patting my cheek to keep me awake.
“ ‘There was, oh, such a lovely wedding-breakfast! At one end of the table there was a large plum-pudding. And at the other end there was a nice roasted Lamb! Oh, you’ve no idea what a delicious thing it is—a nice roasted Lamb!’ And the Lamb said ‘Oh, if you please, Sir, don’t talk about eating Lambs! It makes me so shivery!’ And the Lion said ‘Oh, well, we won’t talk about it, then!’ ”
XV
The Little Foxes
“So, when they got to the top of the hill, Bruno opened the hamper: and he took out the Bread, and the Apples, and the Milk: and they ate, and they drank. And when they’d finished the Milk, and eaten half the Bread and half the Apples, the Lamb said ‘Oh, my paws is so sticky! I want to wash my paws!’ And the Lion said ‘Well, go down the hill, and wash them in the brook, yonder. We’ll wait for you!’ ”
“It never comed back!” Bruno solemnly whispered to me.
But Sylvie overheard him. “You’re not to whisper, Bruno! It spoils the story! And when the Lamb had been gone a long time, the Lion said to Bruno ‘Do go and see after that silly little Lamb! It must have lost its way.’ And Bruno went down the hill. And when he got to the brook, he saw the Lamb sitting on
