This unkind inquiry, while rather acting as a wet blanket, raised a storm of discussion which was finally quelled by Tim, who remarked that it was not absolutely necessary to inscribe it anywhere. He also suggested that the P. M. (papier mache) be changed to R. T., as the alligator had always considered himself the Real Thing.
The vexed question having been amicably disposed of, the artist of the evening proceeded to the second number on the program, which was entitled
“A PASTORAL.”
The rain was very wet indeed,
The trees were standing still;
The river was running the usual way,
For it never could travel up hill.
“Of course it couldn’t,” remarked the guinea pig. “Why should it? And how about the trees? One never sees them running around. And why shouldn’t the rain be wet? Did one ever hear of dry rain except the Raines law?”
As these remarks were uttered in a loud voice, they were perfectly audible to all the audience. Immediately a hubbub of criticisms, pro and con, arose, in the midst of which the two collar boxes that constituted the platform became so energetic that they suddenly parted company, precipitating Bedelia to the ground.
In the confusion that followed it would be but reasonable to conclude that the entertainment was ended. Peter Pan lugged off his wife, after having applied a smelling bottle in the usual place, and the cause of all the disaster marched off to bed singing at the top of its shrill voice: