THE LIONS IN THE DESERT
'But why?' asked Philip at dinner, which was no painted wonder of wooden make-believe, but real roast guinea-fowl and angel pudding, 'Why do you only have wooden things to eat at your banquets?'
'Banquets are extremely important occasions,' said Mr. Noah, 'and real food—food that you can eat and enjoy—only serves to distract the mind from the serious affairs of life. Many of the most successful caterers in your world have grasped this great truth.'
'But why,' Lucy asked, 'do you have the big silver bowls with nothing in them?'
Mr. Noah sighed. 'The bowls are for dessert,' he said.
'But there isn't any dessert in them,' Lucy objected.
'No,' said Mr. Noah, sighing again, 'that's just it. There is no dessert. There has never been any dessert. Will you have a little more angel pudding?'
It was quite plain to Lucy and Philip that Mr. Noah wished to change the subject, which, for some reason, was a sad one, and with true politeness they both said 'Yes, please,' to the angel pudding offer, though they had already had quite as much as they really needed.
After dinner Mr. Noah took them for a walk through the town, 'to see the factories,' he said. This surprised Philip, who had been taught not to build factories with his bricks because factories were so ugly, but the factories turned out to be pleasant, long, low houses, with tall French windows opening into gardens of roses, where people of all nations made beautiful and useful things, and loved making them. And all the people who were making them looked clean and happy.
'I wish we had factories like those,' Philip said. 'Our factories are so ugly. Helen says so.'