“Do oo think he caught the Fox, Mister Sir?” said Bruno. I shook my head, not liking to speak: and Sylvie went on.
“And when they got to the house, Bruno looked in at the window. And there he saw the three little Foxes sitting round the table, with their clean pinafores on, and spoons in their hands——”
“Spoons in their hands!” Bruno repeated in an ecstasy of delight.
“And the Fox had got a great big knife—all ready to kill the poor little Lamb——” (“Oo needn’t be flightened, Mister Sir!” Bruno put in, in a hasty whisper.)
‘ENTER THE LION’
“And just as he was going to do it, Bruno heard a great ROAR——” (The real Bruno put his hand into mine, and held tight), “and the Lion came bang through the door, and the next moment it had bitten off the old Fox’s head! And Bruno jumped in at the window, and went leaping round the room, and crying out ‘Hooray! Hooray! The old Fox is dead! The old Fox is dead!’”
Bruno got up in some excitement. “May I do it now?” he enquired.
Sylvie was quite decided on this point. “Wait till afterwards,” she said. “The speeches come next, don’t you know? You always love the speeches, don’t you?”
“Yes, I doos,” said Bruno: and sat down again.