“Then I won’t cry,” said Bruno manfully. “There are more Introductory Verses to come,” said the Other Professor, “but I’m hungry.” He sat down, cut a large slice of cake, put it on Bruno’s plate, and gazed at his own empty plate in astonishment. “Where did you get that cake?” Sylvie whispered to Bruno. “He gived it me,” said Bruno. “But you shouldn’t ask for things! You _know_ you shouldn’t!” “I _didn’t_ ask,” said Bruno, taking a fresh mouthful: “he _gived_ it me.” Sylvie considered this for a moment: then she saw her way out of it. “Well, then, ask him to give _me_ some!” “You seem to enjoy that cake?” the Professor remarked. “Doos that mean ‘munch’?” Bruno whispered to Sylvie. Sylvie nodded. “It means ‘to munch’ and ‘to _like_ to munch.’” Bruno smiled at the Professor. “I _doos_ enjoy it,” he said. The Other Professor caught the word. “And I hope you’re enjoying _yourself_, little Man?” he enquired. Bruno’s look of horror quite startled him. “No, _indeed_ I aren’t!” he said. The Other Professor looked thoroughly puzzled. “Well, well!” he said. “Try some cowslip wine!” And he filled a glass and handed it to Bruno. “Drink this, my dear, and you’ll be quite another man!” “Who shall I be?” said Bruno, pausing in the act of putting it to his lips. “Don’t ask so many questions!” Sylvie interposed, anxious to save the poor old man from further bewilderment. “Suppose we get the Professor to tell us a story.” Bruno adopted the idea with enthusiasm. “_Please_ do!” he cried eagerly. “Sumfin about tigers—and bumble-bees—and robin-redbreasts, oo knows!” “Why should you always have _live_ things in stories?” said the Professor. “Why don’t you have events, or circumstances?” “Oh, _please_ invent a story like that!” cried Bruno. The Professor began fluently enough. “Once a coincidence was taking a walk with a little accident, and they met an explanation—a _very_ old explanation—so old that it was quite doubled up, and looked more like a conundrum——” he broke off suddenly. “_Please_ go on!” both children exclaimed. The Professor made a candid confession. “It’s a very difficult sort to invent, I find. Suppose Bruno tells one, first.” Bruno was only too happy to adopt the suggestion. “Once there were a Pig, and a Accordion, and two Jars of Orange-marmalade——” “The _dramatis personæ_,” murmured the Professor. “Well, what then?” “So, when the Pig played on the Accordion,” Bruno went on, “one of the Jars of Orange-marmalade didn’t like the tune, and the other Jar of Orange-marmalade did like the tune—I _know_ I shall get confused among those Jars of Orange-marmalade, Sylvie!” he whispered anxiously. “I will now recite the other Introductory Verses,” said the Other Professor. [Illustration: ‘BLESSED BY HAPPY STAGS’] Little Birds are choking Baronets with bun, Taught to fire a gun: Taught, I say, to splinter Salmon in the winter— Merely for the fun.