"I do not mind being dull in the least, father," the boy replied. "Mother is always wanting me to play silly games out in the street, with boys whom I don't like at all."
"I used to see you playing with them often," his father reminded him.
The child looked puzzled. He appeared to be trying to recollect something.
"Daddy, some things in the world seem so funny," he said, thoughtfully. "I know that I used to like to play with Teddy Miles and Dick, hopscotch and marbles, and relievo. Relievo is a very rough game, and marbles makes one very dirty and dusty. Still, I know that I used to like to play those games. I don't want to now a bit. I would rather read. If you are busy, daddy, I shan't mind a bit. Please don't think that you will have to play with me. I want to read, I shall be quite happy reading all the time. Mr. Denschem has given me a list of books. Perhaps you have some of them. If not, couldn't we get some out of a library?"
Burton looked at the list which the boy produced, and groaned to himself.
"My dear Alfred," he protested, "these books are for almost grown-up people."
The boy smiled confidently.
"Mr. Denschem gave me the list, father," he repeated simply.
After lunch, Burton took the boy round to Mr. Waddington's office. Mr.
Waddington was deep in a book of engravings which he had just purchased.
He welcomed Burton warmly and gazed with surprise at the child.
"Alfred," his father directed, "go and sit in that easy-chair for a few minutes. I want to talk to Mr. Waddington."