“And Bruno said ‘Wo’n’t you come with us to my Picnic?’ And the Lamb said ‘Oh, I should like it _very much indeed_, if my Ma will let me!’ And Bruno said ‘Let’s go and ask your Ma!’ And they went to the old Sheep. And Bruno said ‘Please, may your little Lamb come to my Picnic?’ And the Sheep said ‘Yes, if it’s learnt all its lessons.’ And the Lamb said ‘Oh yes, Ma! I’ve learnt _all_ my lessons!’” “Pretend it hadn’t any lessons!” Bruno earnestly pleaded. “Oh, that would never do!” said Sylvie. “I ca’n’t leave out all about the lessons! And the old Sheep said ‘Do you know your A B C yet? Have you learnt A?’ And the Lamb said ‘Oh yes, Ma! I went to the A-field, and I helped them to make A!’ ‘Very good, my child! And have you learnt B?’ ‘Oh yes, Ma! I went to the B-hive, and the B gave me some honey!’ ‘Very good, my child! And have you learnt C?’ ‘Oh yes, Ma! I went to the C-side, and I saw the ships sailing on the C!’ ‘Very good, my child! You may go to Bruno’s Picnic.’ [Illustration: STARTING FOR BRUNO’S PICNIC] “So they set off. And Bruno walked in the middle, so that the Lamb mightn’t see the Lion——” “It were _flightened_,” Bruno explained. “Yes, and it trembled so; and it got paler and paler; and, before they’d got to the top of the hill, it was a _white_ little Lamb—as white as snow!” “But _Bruno_ weren’t flightened!” said the owner of that name. “So _he_ staid black!” “No, he _didn’t_ stay black! He staid _pink_!” laughed Sylvie. “I shouldn’t kiss you like this, you know, if you were _black_!” “Oo’d _have_ to!” Bruno said with great decision. “Besides, Bruno wasn’t _Bruno_, oo know—I mean, Bruno wasn’t _me_—I mean—don’t talk nonsense, Sylvie!” “I won’t do it again!” Sylvie said very humbly. “And so, as they went along, the Lion said ‘Oh, I’ll tell you what I used to do when I was a young Lion. I used to hide behind trees, to watch for little Boys.’” (Bruno cuddled a little closer to her.) “‘And, if a little thin scraggy Boy came by, why, I used to let him go. But, if a little fat juicy——’” Bruno could bear no more. “Pretend he wasn’t juicy!” he pleaded, half-sobbing. “Nonsense, Bruno!” Sylvie briskly replied. “It’ll be done in a moment! ‘—if a little fat juicy Boy came by, why, I used to spring out and gobble him up! Oh, you’ve no _idea_ what a delicious thing it is—a little juicy Boy!’ And Bruno said ‘Oh, if you please, Sir, _don’t_ talk about eating little boys! It makes me so _shivery_!’” The real Bruno shivered, in sympathy with the hero. “And the Lion said ‘Oh, well, we won’t talk about it, then! I’ll tell you what happened on my wedding-day——’” “I like _this_ part better,” said Bruno, patting my cheek to keep me awake.