"It doesn't want to go," explains his father. "But it will have to go, and the dogs will punish them for not letting you reduce its velvet seats to powder. Never mind, go on with your story; so that unnatural aunt of yours wouldn't tell you about the pictures, eh?" "She did in the beginning, and when we got into the big room too, a little while. She told me about the great large one at the end, 'Christ and the Historian,' though I couldn't see the Historian anywhere, and----" "She herself must be a most successful one," says Mr. Monkton, sotto voce. "And then we came to the Innocents, and I perfectly hated that," says Tommy. "'Twas frightful! Everybody was as large as that," stretching out his arms and puffing out his cheeks, "and the babies were all so fat and so horrid. And then Felix came, and Joyce had to talk to him, so I didn't know any more." "I think you forget," says Joyce. "There was that picture with lions in it. Mr. Dysart himself explained that to you." "Oh, that one!" says Tommy, as if dimly remembering, "the circus one! The one with the round house. I didn't like that either." "It is rather ghastly for a child," says his mother. "That's not the one with the gas," puts in Tommy. "The one with the gas is just close to it, and has got Pilate's wife in it. She's very nice." "But why didn't you like the other?" asks his father. "I think it one of the best there." "Well, I don't," says Tommy, evidently grieved at having to differ from his father; but filled with a virtuous determination to stick to the truth through thick and thin. "No?" "'Tis unfair," says Tommy. "That has been allowed for centuries," says his father. "Then why don't they change it?" "Change what?" asks Mr. Monkton, feeling a little puzzled. "How can one change now the detestable cruelties--or the abominable habits of the dark ages?" "But why were they dark?" asks Tommy. "Mammy says they had gas then." "I didn't mean that, I----" his mother is beginning, but Monkton stops her with a despairing gesture. "Don't," says he. "It would take a good hour by the slowest clock. Let him believe there was electric light then if he chooses." "Well, but why can't they change it?" persists Tommy, who is evidently full of the picture in question. "I have told you." "But the painter man could change it." "I am afraid not, Tommy. He is dead." "Why didn't he do it before he died then? Why didn't somebody show him what to do?" "I don't fancy he wanted any hints. And besides, he had to be true to his ideal. It was a terrible time. They did really throw the Christians to the lions, you know." "Of course I know that," says Tommy with a superior air. "But why didn't they cast another one?" "Eh?" says Mr. Monkton. "That's why it's unfair!" says Tommy. "There is one poor lion there, and he hasn't got any Christian! Why didn't Mr. Dory give him one?" Tableau! "Barbara!" says Mr. Monkton faintly, after a long pause. "Is there any brandy in the house?"