And, on the other side, the Jampot's voice: “You naughty boy, stoppin' 'ere for everyone to see, just because it's your birthday, which I wish there wasn't no birthdays, nor there wouldn't be if I had my way.” Jeremy turned from Mr. Thompson's window, a scornful smile on his face: “I'm bigger'n you, Nurse,” he said. “If I said out loud, 'I won't go,' I wouldn't go, and no one could make me.” “Well, come along, then,” said Nurse. “Don't be so stupid, Jerry,” said Helen calmly. “If a policeman came and said you had to go home you'd have to go.” “No I wouldn't,” said Jeremy. “Then they'd put you in prison.” “They could.” “They'd hang you, perhaps.” “They could,” replied Jeremy. Farther than this argument cannot go, so Helen shrugged her shoulders and said: “You are silly.” And they all moved forward. He found then that this new sense or God-like power detracted a little from the excitements of the Market Place, although the flower-stall was dazzling with flowers; there was a new kind of pig that lifted its tail and lowered it again on the toy stall, and the apple-woman was as fat as ever and had thick clumps of yellow bananas hanging most richly around her head. They ascended the High Street and reached the Close. It was half-past three, and the Cathedral bells had begun to ring for evensong. All the houses in the Close were painted with a pale yellow light; across the long green Cathedral lawn thin black shadows like the fingers of giants pointed to the Cathedral door. All was so silent here that the bells danced against the houses and back again, the echoes lingering in the high elms and mingling with the placid cooing of the rooks. “There's Mrs. Sampson,” said Jeremy. “Aunt Amy says she's a wicked woman. Do you think she's a wicked woman, Nurse?” He gazed at the stout figure with interest. If he were truly God he would turn her into a rabbit. This thought amused him, and he began to laugh. “You naughty boy; now come along, do,” said the Jampot, who distrusted laughter in Jerry. “I'll ring the bells when I grow up,” he said, “and I'll ring them in the middle of the night, so that everyone will have to go to church when they don't want to. I'll be able to do what I like when I grow up.” “No, you won't,” said Helen. “Father and Mother can't do what they like.” “Yes they can,” said Jeremy. “No they can't,” answered Helen, “or they would.” “So they do,” said Jeremy--“silly.” “Silly yourself,” said Helen very calmly, because she knew very well that she was not silly. “Now, children, stop it, do,” said the Jampot. Jeremy's sense of newly received power reached its climax when they walked round the Close and reached the back of the Cathedral. I know that now, both for Jeremy and me, that prospect has dwindled into its proper grown-up proportions, but how can a man, be he come to threescore and ten and more, ever forget the size, the splendour, the stupendous extravagance of that early vision?