But they hadn't sense enough for that—of course they hadn't—of course they hadn't! Which shows what loonies people are.
But you see I am much nicer than un–fairy persons, even if I have lost my nice little, pink little, sweet little Temper and if I am cross. So when I saw the children fretting and growing pale because they had to be shut up, and the mothers crying into their washtubs when they were washing, until the water slopped over, I made up my mind I would go and talk to that Lion myself in a way he wouldn't soon forget.
It was a beautiful morning, and the Huge Green Hill looked lovely. A shepherd who saw me thought I was a gold and purple butterfly and threw his hat at me—the idiot! Of course he fell down on his nose— and very right and proper too.
When I got to the Cave, the Lion was sitting outside his door and he was crying. He was one of these nasty–tempered, discontented Lions who are always thinking themselves injured; large round tears were rolling down his nose and he was sniffling. But I must say he was handsome. He was big and smooth and had the most splendid mane and tail I ever saw.
He would have been like a King if he had had a nicer expression. But there he sat sniffling.
"I'm so lonely," he said. "Nobody calls. Nobody pays me any attention. And I came here for the Society. No one is fonder of Society than I am."
I sat down on a flowering branch near him and shouted at him, "What's the use of Society when you eat it up?" I said.
He jumped up and lashed his tail and growled but at first he could not see me.