I couldn't help smiling at this. “You know I sometimes wash my face,
Bruno. The moon never does that.”
“Oh, doosn't she though!” cried Bruno; and he leant forwards and added
in a solemn whisper, “The moon's face gets dirtier and dirtier every
night, till it's black all across. And then, when it's dirty all
over--so--” (he passed his hand across his own rosy cheeks as he spoke)
“then she washes it.”
“Then it's all clean again, isn't it?”
“Not all in a moment,” said Bruno. “What a deal of teaching oo wants!
She washes it little by little--only she begins at the other edge, oo
know.”
By this time he was sitting quietly on the dead mouse with his arms
folded, and the weeding wasn't getting on a bit: so I had to say “Work
first, pleasure afterwards: no more talking till that bed's finished.”
CHAPTER 15. BRUNO'S REVENGE.
After that we had a few minutes of silence, while I sorted out the
pebbles, and amused myself with watching Bruno's plan of gardening. It
was quite a new plan to me: he always measured each bed before he weeded
it, as if he was afraid the weeding would make it shrink; and once, when
it came out longer than he wished, he set to work to thump the mouse
with his little fist, crying out “There now! It's all gone wrong again!
Why don't oo keep oor tail straight when I tell oo!”
“I'll tell you what I'll do,” Bruno said in a half-whisper, as we
worked. “Oo like Fairies, don't oo?”
“Yes,” I said: “of course I do, or I shouldn't have come here. I should
have gone to some place where there are no Fairies.”
Bruno laughed contemptuously. “Why, oo might as well say oo'd go to some
place where there wasn't any air--supposing oo didn't like air!”
This was a rather difficult idea to grasp. I tried a change of subject.
“You're nearly the first Fairy I ever saw. Have you ever seen any people
besides me?”
“Plenty!” said Bruno. “We see'em when we walk in the road.”
“But they ca'n't see you. How is it they never tread on you?”
“Ca'n't tread on us,” said Bruno, looking amused at my ignorance. “Why,
suppose oo're walking, here--so--” (making little marks on the ground)
“and suppose there's a Fairy--that's me--walking here. Very well then,
oo put one foot here, and one foot here, so oo doosn't tread on the
Fairy.”
This was all very well as an explanation, but it didn't convince me.
“Why shouldn't I put one foot on the Fairy?” I asked.
“I don't know why,” the little fellow said in a thoughtful tone. “But
I know oo wouldn't. Nobody never walked on the top of a Fairy. Now
I'll tell oo what I'll do, as oo're so fond of Fairies. I'll get oo
an invitation to the Fairy-King's dinner-party. I know one of the
head-waiters.”
I couldn't help laughing at this idea. “Do the waiters invite the
guests?” I asked.
“Oh, not to sit down!” Bruno said. “But to wait at table. Oo'd like
that, wouldn't oo? To hand about plates, and so on.”
“Well, but that's not so nice as sitting at the table, is it?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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