“We want you to speak to the Gardener for us,” Sylvie said, as she and Bruno took the old man’s hands and led him into the hall.
“He’s ever so unkind!” Bruno mournfully added. “They’s all unkind to us, now that Father’s gone. The Lion were much nicer!”
“But you must explain to me, please,” the Professor said with an anxious look, “which is the Lion, and which is the Gardener. It’s most important not to get two such animals confused together. And one’s very liable to do it in their case—both having mouths, you know——”
“Doos oo always confuses two animals together?” Bruno asked.
“Pretty often, I’m afraid,” the Professor candidly confessed. “Now, for instance, there’s the rabbit-hutch and the hall-clock.” The Professor pointed them out. “One gets a little confused with them—both having doors, you know. Now, only yesterday—would you believe it?—I put some lettuces into the clock, and tried to wind up the rabbit!”
“Did the rabbit go, after oo wounded it up?” said Bruno.
The Professor clasped his hands on the top of his head, and groaned. “Go? I should think it did go! Why, it’s gone! And where ever it’s gone to—that’s what I ca’n’t find out! I’ve done my best—I’ve read all the article ‘Rabbit’ in the great dictionary—— Come in!”
“Only the tailor, Sir, with your little bill,” said a meek voice outside the door.
“Ah, well, I can soon settle his business,” the Professor said to the children, “if you’ll just wait a minute. How much is it, this year, my man?” The tailor had come in while he was speaking.
“Well, it’s been a doubling so many years, you see,” the tailor replied, a little gruffly, “and I think I’d like the money now. It’s two thousand pound, it is!”