"Prawns, p'rambulators, prongs, pastry," commenced Bobbie rapidly. "Well, none of those are very nice except pastry. I can't think of anything more, Jerry, you must tell me."
"Pantomime!" said Jerry, triumphantly; "next Saturday!—what do you say to that?"
Bobbie's eyes twinkled. "With preserved seats, like we had last time! Oh, splendid!" and he began to caper about the room with delight.
"Well, this has been a day!" he exclaimed, as he sank down, quite exhausted. "What a lot for my diary! I'd better write it out at once, before I forget it."
A large book, interleaved with blotting-paper, was disinterred from the play-box, and Bobbie sat down before it solemnly.
The greater part of this book was filled with minute accounts of what time its owner got up, and went to bed, what pudding he had for dinner, and what lessons he learnt; but on this occasion the entry assumed such large proportions that it spread right over the next day, and was wandering into "Friday," when Bobbie suddenly remembered the tea-party, and that room must certainly be left for that!
Jerry, looking over his shoulder, when he had finished, read the following, adorned with many blots and smudges:—
"Had sutch a day. 2 lite gentlemen who turnered into Unkels ('You mean, "turned out to be uncles,"' corrected Jerry) came And gave me 1 shiling for the brown ginny-pig I acepted with thanks they are goin to tak us Jerry and me to the pantermine and tea at Mrs. Funnels on Fryday (not the Unkels but nurs).
"P.S.—Plenty mor to say but no rume. cant put the puding to-day."