When Cassandra and he went down to breakfast, they found the Sorcerer seated in a chair reading a magazine. ‘Well,’ said he, ‘how did you sleep?’ ‘Fine,’ said Raphael. ‘Did you sleep well?’ ‘My dear boy,’ answered the Sorcerer, ‘I don’t ever sleep. What use is sleep? It is a waste of valuable time.’ Raphael glanced at the magazine that the Sorcerer had been reading. It was lying open on the table. As far as Raphael could see it was made up of advertisements. _Use Flip Flop Arches for Flat Feet. A Masterpiece of Mechanical Machinery. Is Your Personality Red Hot? The Mechanico Wearing Our Asbestos Underwear Is Correctly Garbed For All Occasions._ And there was a picture of a mechanico standing on his head, underneath which Raphael read, _Do you know better? Make your manners mechanical._ ‘Aren’t there any stories in the magazine?’ Raphael asked. ‘Oh dear no,’ answered Mechanus. ‘This is the Mechanico Journal Post. It is the last word in magazine-making. We have left out all unnecessary matter.’ And he showed Raphael the cover on which was printed the picture of a mechanico with his mouth open. This was done handsomely in several colors. After breakfast Raphael and Cassandra went out into the garden to play. It was a wonderful garden. There were all sorts of flowers growing in it, flowers much bigger than Raphael had ever seen before. Brick-red zinnias, crimson dahlias, blue corn flowers, columbine, roses, and tall sunflowers. There were also many other flowers Raphael could not name. ‘Why, I didn’t know all these flowers bloomed so early in the spring,’ he said to Cassandra. ‘I guess they don’t, Raff. Anyhow, these are fakes.’ Raphael bent over to pick one. It was true. They were not flowers at all, but beautifully made imitations. ‘What shall we play?’ asked Raphael. ‘Let’s play trains.’ ‘But we haven’t any.’ ‘Mechanus said,’ answered Cassandra, ‘that all we had to do was to clap our hands, and a mechanico would bring us anything we wanted.’ They both clapped their hands, and a mechanico appeared. ‘Please,’ said Cassandra, ‘we want to play trains.’ [Illustration: THE MECHANICO DISAPPEARED AND SUMMONED A LARGE GANG OF OTHER MECHANICOS] The mechanico disappeared and returned in a moment bringing a large box which he carried on his head. When the box was opened, Raphael gave a cry of delight. Inside it were real trains that ran by steam and were fired by tiny chips of coal. They had electric lights in all the carriages. There were also sections of track, and the mechanico brought switches and drawbridges and stations and a roundhouse with a turntable. They laid the track through the jungle of the false flowers, and played happily together for an hour or two. Then Raphael got up and stretched. ‘I wish,’ he said, ‘I had a larger train with an engine that I could run myself.’ He clapped his hands. ‘Is there a bigger engine about? An engine large enough for me to ride in?’