Therefore was he surprised and chilled when one day, having as usual trotted ahead of Nannie, he stopped opposite two blue soldiers resting on a seat in the park and they took not the slightest notice of him.
They seemed to be looking right at him as he stood at salute, but they neither “t’luted,” nor did they smile or speak.
Jasper kissed his hand.
Still no response.
He kissed his hand, and blew the kiss right at them.
Puzzled, he looked from one to the other. They weren’t asleep. Their eyes were wide open, and their faces kind and patient, but they didn’t seem a bit glad to see him.
They just took no notice—no notice at all. And Nannie came up with the pram.
“I t’luted ’em,” he said in rather trembling tones, quite unlike his usual strong treble, “but they don’t seem to like me.”
“Eh, what?” said one of the men suddenly. “What’s that?”
Nannie said something hurriedly in a low voice. “He’s only two and a bit,” she added. Then, “It’s too cold for you to be sitting there. Have you lost your bearings?”