|
|||||||
`The Banquet!' cried the Other Professor, springing up, and filling the room with a cloud of dust. Then I'd better go and--and brush myself a little. What a state I'm in!' `He does want brushing!' the Professor said, with a critical air. `Here's your hat, little man! I had put it on by mistake. I'd quite forgotten I had one on, already. Let's go and look at the platform.' `And there's that nice old Gardener singing still!' Bruno exclaimed in delight, as we went out into the garden. `I do believe he's been singing that very song ever since we went away!' `Why, of course he has!' replied the Professor. `It wouldn't be the thing to leave off, you know.' `Wouldn't be what thing?' said Bruno: but the Professor thought it best not to hear the question. `What are you doing with that hedgehog?' he shouted at the Gardener, whom they found standing upon one foot, singing softly to himself, and rolling a hedgehog up and down with the other foot. `Well, I wanted fur to know what hedgehogs lives on: so I be a-keeping this here hedgehog--fur to see if it eats potatoes--' `Much better keep a potato,' said the Professor; `and see if hedgehogs eat it!' `That be the roight way, sure-ly!' the delighted Gardener exclaimed. `Be you come to see the platform?' `Aye, aye!' the Professor cheerily replied. `And the children have come back, you see!' The Gardener looked round at them with a grin. Then he led the way to the Pavilion; and as he went he
sang: `He looked again, and found it was `You've been months over that song,' said the Professor. `Isn't it finished yet?' `There be only one verse more,' the Gardener sadly replied. And, with tears streaming down his cheeks,
he sang the last verse: `He thought he saw an Argument Choking with sobs, the Gardener hastily stepped on a few yards ahead of the party, to conceal his emotion. `Did he see the Bar of Mottled Soap?' Sylvie enquired, as we followed. `Oh, certainly!' said the Professor. `That song is his own history, you know.' Tears of an ever-ready sympathy glittered in Bruno's eyes. `I's welly sorry he isn't the Pope!' he said. `Aren't you sorry, Sylvie?' `Well--I hardly know,' Sylvie replied in the vaguest manner. `Would it make him any happier?' she asked the Professor. `It wouldn't make the Pope any happier,' said the Professor. `Isn't the platform lovely?' he asked, as we entered the Pavilion. `I've put an extra beam under it!' said the Gardener, patting it affectionately as he spoke. `And now it's that strong, as--as a mad elephant might dance upon it!' |
|||||||
|
|||||||
|
|||||||
Copyright: All texts on Bibliomania are © Bibliomania.com Ltd, and may not be reproduced in any form without our written permission. See our FAQ for more details. | |||||||