“Wouldn’t be _what_ thing?” said Bruno: but the Professor thought it best not to hear the question. “What are you doing with that hedgehog?” he shouted at the Gardener, whom they found standing upon one foot, singing softly to himself, and rolling a hedgehog up and down with the other foot. “Well, I wanted fur to know what hedgehogs lives on: so I be a-keeping this here hedgehog—fur to see if it eats potatoes——” “Much better keep a potato,” said the Professor; “and see if hedgehogs eat it!” “That be the roight way, sure-ly!” the delighted Gardener exclaimed. “Be you come to see the platform?” “Aye, aye!” the Professor cheerily replied. “And the children have come back, you see!” The Gardener looked round at them with a grin. Then he led the way to the Pavilion; and as he went he sang:— “He looked again, and found it was A Double Rule of Three: ‘And all its Mystery,’ he said, ‘Is clear as day to me!’” “You’ve been _months_ over that song,” said the Professor. “Isn’t it finished yet?” “There be only one verse more,” the Gardener sadly replied. And, with tears streaming down his cheeks, he sang the last verse:— “He thought he saw an Argument That proved he was the Pope: He looked again, and found it was A Bar of Mottled Soap. ‘A fact so dread,’ he faintly said, ‘Extinguishes all hope!’” Choking with sobs, the Gardener hastily stepped on a few yards ahead of the party, to conceal his emotion. “Did _he_ see the Bar of Mottled Soap?” Sylvie enquired, as we followed. “Oh, certainly!” said the Professor. “That song is his own history, you know.” Tears of an ever-ready sympathy glittered in Bruno’s eyes. “I’s _welly_ sorry he isn’t the Pope!” he said. “Aren’t _you_ sorry, Sylvie?” “Well—I hardly know,” Sylvie replied in the vaguest manner. “Would it make him any happier?” she asked the Professor. “It wouldn’t make the _Pope_ any happier,” said the Professor. “Isn’t the platform _lovely_?” he asked, as we entered the Pavilion. “I’ve put an extra beam under it!” said the Gardener, patting it affectionately as he spoke. “And now it’s that strong, as—as a mad elephant might dance upon it!” “Thank you _very_ much!” the Professor heartily rejoined. “I don’t know that we shall exactly require—but it’s convenient to know.” And he led the children upon the platform, to explain the arrangements to them. “Here are three seats, you see, for the Emperor and the Empress and Prince Uggug. But there must be two more chairs here!” he said, looking down at the Gardener. “One for Lady Sylvie, and one for the smaller animal!” “And may I help in the Lecture?” said Bruno. “I can do some conjuring-tricks.” “Well, it’s not exactly a _conjuring_ lecture,” the Professor said, as he arranged some curious-looking machines on the table. “However, what can you do? Did you ever go through a table, for instance?” “Often!” said Bruno. “_Haven’t_ I, Sylvie?”