Upon his head, as he believed it to be becoming, he had placed jauntily sideways, an immense green dunce's cap from one of the children's giant crackers, which the Griffin had pulled as he entered the doors. The Griffin had decided to adorn his front feet with strips of scarlet flannel, because he declared that he had chilblains, and furthermore, his paws were exceedingly tender after his encounter upon the previous evening with St. George. It was thus that the Griffin ambled in trailing his Lord Mayor's robes behind him, and smiling aimlessly from right to left upon everybody present. "Has everybody missed me?" sniggered the Griffin. "I fear I'm late!" "Nobody has missed you at all," retorted the Pleasant-Faced Lion. The Griffin looked hurt for a moment. "Oh, surely, Lal," entreated the Griffin; "_surely_ some one missed me!" "No," said the Lion firmly. The corners of the Griffin's mouth trembled. "Now then," said the Lion, sternly, "no emotion." "No! no! Lal," faltered the Griffin, "but when I think of that lovely saying, 'Everybody's Loved by Some one'----" "There are exceptions to every rule," snapped the Lion. "Oh," sniggered the Griffin, "then it does apply even to me, for I myself am an exception. There is only one of me," ended the Griffin eagerly, "only one in all London." "Some things don't bear repeating," said the Lion. The Griffin's weak memory came to his aid at this awkward moment: "That must particularly apply to your last remark," simpered the Griffin. "You have heard somebody else say that," objected the Lion. "True," sniggered the Griffin, "and it will not be the first time that the remembrance of other people's sayings have passed for wit; and I have always so longed to be a wit," sighed the Griffin. "Don't you think, Lal, that I might one day be a wit?" inquired the Griffin anxiously. "No," said the Lion, "I don't; you have none of the necessary qualifications." Once again the Griffin's mouth trembled piteously. "Oh, Lal," implored the Griffin, "think, only think again." "I couldn't," answered the Lion, "some things don't bear thinking about." The Griffin, with two tears trembling in his eyes, clasped his flannel-wrapped foreclaws together beseechingly and changed the nature of his supplication: "Very well, Lal, then perhaps as you have never seen me act, I might arrange some theatricals and amuse the children and the company present. Of course," simpered the Griffin, "I should play the chief funny part myself; wouldn't it be wonderful if I played the chief funny part myself?" The Lion looked at the Griffin contemplatively for a second: "You will never be funnier than you are now," remarked the Lion, "and we are not going to have any theatricals at all, the children are going to dance." "The very thing," agreed the Griffin. "I will lead them; I dance so beautifully."