The Pleasant-Faced Lion laughed his gruffest laugh. "I don't think you could very well _explain_ me away, little Christine." "Suppose you sat on the hearth-rug and people seemed a little distant or awkward?" commenced Ridgwell. "Yes," broke in Christine, "or some of those dreadful long pauses occurred when nobody speaks and every one looks at every one else and feels uncomfortable--would you _say_ something?" "Yes," said the Lion. "I have plenty of tact, but really there won't be any need," and the Pleasant-Faced Lion again chuckled softly to himself. "There is only one thing I want you to do," said the Pleasant-Faced Lion, and he still seemed to be choked with merriment as if a sudden idea had occurred to him. "What is it, Lal?" inquired both the children. "Upon Ridgwell's birthday night, before you both go to bed, I want you, Ridgwell, to remember a little rhyme and say it to yourself." "A hymn?" asked Ridgwell. "Not exactly a hymn." "After we have said our prayers?" "Certainly," replied the Lion obligingly, "any time before you go to bed will do; will you promise to remember?" "Of course, Lal." "Well, this is the little rhyme," whispered the Lion mysteriously; and somehow it seemed to Ridgwell as if the Lion was still laughing at him as he repeated the following extraordinary rhyme-- "Christian child or Pagan child, Which is my denomination, Have I eaten dear old Lal In my birthday celebration?" Ridgwell repeated the mysterious rhyme after the Lion, then he shook his head. "Don't understand it, do you?" grinned the Lion. "Not a bit," answered Ridgwell. "I give it up, too," said Christine. "Are you laughing at us, Lal?" inquired Ridgwell anxiously. "Ah!" said the Lion, "I wonder; however, he who laughs last, laughs last; that saying is true without a doubt; and," he concluded with a chuckle, "I bet you both anything you like that I have the last laugh. In fact, one day when you pass me you may hear me laugh, although I shall never speak to either of you again in public. And that reminds me of something I want to warn both of you about particularly. Never appear to notice me in public or speak to me whenever you chance to pass me in Trafalgar Square; you would only collect a crowd, make me very uncomfortable, and convey the unfortunate impression to everybody within earshot that you were mad. The same thing applies to Carry-on-Merry; he has a most provoking face, and the happy laugh always to be seen upon it might tempt you both to suppose that he was listening; now mind you never give way to the temptation of addressing either of us in public, and never refer to anything that has happened even in private, for you will only be misunderstood. Remember," concluded the Lion, "that the Great Order of Imagination is only given to a very few people; those who do not possess it do not understand it. See, your own has faded already!"