"Stop that," said a gruff voice.
"What?" faltered Ridgwell.
"Going to cry."
"I am not sure," said Ridgwell, "that I was."
"I am," said the gruff voice. "I saw the corners of your mouth go down. Now can you climb up? No, of course you can't, you are too small. Here, catch hold of my paw! There you are!" grunted the Lion, when Ridgwell was seated safely. "You just fit nicely; all the children fit in here. Knock those rolled-up policemen's capes off, they annoy me every day when they put them there. They tickle me, and I can't scratch about with my paws either."
Ridgwell was now lost in amazement, and regarded the Lion in open-mouthed astonishment.
The Lion purred contentedly. It was a nice homely sounding, domestic purr, and many times deeper and more impressive than that of a cat. "What's your name?" demanded the Lion, whilst Ridgwell was still gasping.
"Ridgwell."
"Very appropriate too," said the Lion. "Here you are sitting in safety on the Ridge with me, and you are Well, aren't you?"
"Yes, thank you."