Just then two great hands seized Toddie’s frock in front, and he disappeared with a howl, while I, with the first feeling of faintness I had ever experienced, went in search of hammer, nails, and some strips of board, to nail on the outside of the window-frame. But boards could not be found, so I went up to the play-room and began to knock a piece or two off the box which had done duty as whale. A pitiful scream from Toddie caused me to stop. “You’re hurtin’ my dee old whay-al; you’s breakin’ his ’tomach all open—you’s a baddy man—’_top_ hurtin’ my whay-al, ee—ee—ee!” cried my nephew. “I’m not hurting him, Toddie,” said I. “I’m making his mouth bigger, so he can swallow you easier.” A bright thought came into Toddie’s face and shone through his tears. “Then he can fwallow Budgie too, an’ there’ll be two Djonahs—ha—ha—ha! Make his mouf so big he can fwallow Mike, an’ zen mate it ’ittle aden, so Mike tan’t det _out_; nashty old Mike!” [Illustration: TWO GREAT HANDS SEIZED TODDIE] I explained that Mike would not come upstairs again, so I was permitted to depart after securing the window. Again I settled myself with book and cigar; there was at least for me the extra enjoyment that comes from the sense of pleasure earned by honest toil. Pretty soon Budge entered the room. I affected not to notice him, but he was not in the least abashed by my neglect. “Uncle Harry,” said he, throwing himself in my lap, between my book and me, “I don’t feel a bit nice.” “What’s the matter, old fellow?” I asked. Until he spoke I could have boxed his ears with great satisfaction to myself; but there is so much genuine feeling in whatever Budge says that he commands respect. “Oh, I’m tired of playin’ with Toddie, an’ I feel lonesome. Won’t you tell me a story?” “Then what’ll poor Toddie do, Budge?” “Oh, he won’t mind—he’s got a dead mouse to be Jonah now, so I don’t have no fun at all. Won’t you tell me a story?” “Which one?” “Tell me one that I never heard before at all.” “Well, let’s see; I guess I’ll tell——” “Ah—ah—ah—ah—ee—ee—ee!” sounded afar off, but fatefully. It came nearer—it came down the stairway and into the library, accompanied by Toddie, who, on spying me, dropped his inarticulate utterance, held up both hands, and exclaimed:— “Djonah bwoke he tay-al!” [Illustration: “HE’S GOT A DEAD MOUSE TO BE JONAH NOW”] True enough; in one hand Toddie held the body of a mouse, and in the other that animal’s caudal appendage; there was also perceptible, though not by the sense of sight, an objectionable odor in the room. “Toddie,” said I, “go throw Jonah into the chicken coop, and I’ll give you some candy.” “Me too,” shouted Budge, ”’cos I found the mouse for him.”