"Ah, that's the man with the Ass, isn't it?" demanded the Lion.
For a moment Ridgwell looked quite shocked. "Oh no, Lal, you are thinking of Balaam."
"Spelt the same way," snapped the Lion, who did not like being corrected upon historical matters.
"No, Lal, there is an H in Balham and people never drop it."
"Glad to hear it," grunted the Lion. "I only wish the people who collect the pennies from the passengers upon the Buzz Buzz things would say the same. Day by day," added the Lion in an aggrieved tone, "I hear them shout out the expressions—'Olloway, 'Igate, 'Arrow. The Board Schools," continued the Lion in his wisest tones, "are responsible for a most imperfect system of education."
"But, Lal," pleaded Ridgwell, "you will take me to Balham, won't you?
I do not know how I should get home if you didn't take me there."
"Yes," said the Lion, "of course, I shall take you home, but you mustn't come to see me too often, you know, it's outside the four-mile radius. However," concluded the Lion, "I shall follow the tram lines. Jump up," once more commanded the Lion, "and hang on, because you know I go at a good pace when once started."
Whereupon Ridgwell clambered upon the Pleasant-Faced Lion's back, and convulsively hugging him half round his great neck, buried his head in the Lion's mane and shut his eyes, whilst the Lion took a bold jump from off his pedestal, and started in a brisk trot for Balham.
When they had arrived at their destination outside Ridgwell's home, the
Lion stood in the road and wagged his tail contentedly.
"Thank you for bringing me home, Lal," said Ridgwell as he clambered off the Lion's back.