“Oh, stow that,” said Richard wearily. “I know now it’s all a silly dream. But it’s not worth while trying to dream that I don’t know a Kodak when I see it. That’s a Brownie!”
There was a pause, full of speechless amazement.
Then—“If you’ve dreamed about our times,” said Elfrida, “you might believe in us dreaming about yours. Did you dream of anything except Brownies? Did you ever dream of fine carriages, fine boats, and——”
“Don’t talk as if I were a baby,” Richard interrupted. “I know all about railways and steamboats, and the Hippodrome and the Crystal Palace. I know Kent made 615 against Derbyshire last Thursday. Now, then——”
“But I say. Do tell us——”
“I sha’n’t tell you anything more. But I’ll help you to get even with Parrot-nose. I don’t care if I am left here after you go,” said Richard. “Let’s shovel all the snow off the roof into his room, and take our chance.”
Edred and Elfrida would have liked something more subtle, but there was no time to think of anything.
“I know where there are shovels,” said Richard, “if they’ve not got mixed up in the dream.”
“I say,” said Edred slowly, “I’d like to write that down about Kent, and see if it’s right afterwards.”
There was a quill sticking out of the pewter inkstand on the table where they were used to do their lessons. But no paper.