“Were it the Carterpenter a-mending his Wheelbarrow?” Bruno asked me.
I brightened up, and said “It must have been!” in a tone of absolute conviction.
Bruno threw his arms round Sylvie’s neck. “Sylvie!” he said, in a perfectly audible whisper. “He says it must have been!”
“Then Bruno thought a little harder. And he said ‘No! It ca’n’t be the Carpenter amending my Wheelbarrow, because I haven’t got a Wheelbarrow!’”
This time I hid my face in my hands, quite unable to meet Bruno’s look of triumph.
“So Bruno went a little further along the road. And then he heard that queer noise again—Thump! Thump! Thump! So he thought he’d look round, this time, just to see what it was. And what should it be but a great Lion!”
“A great big Lion,” Bruno corrected her.
“A great big Lion. And Bruno was ever so frightened, and he ran——”
“No, he wasn’t flightened a bit!” Bruno interrupted. (He was evidently anxious for the reputation of his namesake.) “He runned away to get a good look at the Lion; ’cause he wanted to see if it were the same Lion what used to nubble little Boys’ heads off; and he wanted to know how big it was!”
“Well, he ran away, to get a good look at the Lion. And the Lion trotted slowly after him. And the Lion called after him, in a very gentle voice, ‘Little Boy, little Boy! You needn’t be afraid of me! I’m a very gentle old Lion now. I never nubble little Boys’ heads off, as I used to do.’ And so Bruno said ‘Don’t you really, Sir? Then what do you live on?’ And the Lion——”