"You're sure to be sorry," I said. "These things always turn out badly. Think of 'Uncle Peter's Fairy Story.'"
"What's that?" asked Bruce.
"It's a book," I replied, "a book that delighted my early childhood. As far as I can recollect, everyone in it was allowed to have one wish, and the results were—well, not quite what they expected. I remember one kind-hearted lady wishing that the blacksmith's baby, who was dying of consumption, should be as well and strong as its father. In about three minutes the baby was decimating the village with a sledge-hammer."
"I shall be very careful," remarked Bruce, a little uncomfortably. "I——"
"By the way," I interrupted, "what happened to your uncle? You took away his manuscript before I'd finished it."
"He never had any more wishes," said Bruce. "That first shot seems to have frightened him off it."
I laughed.
"I don't wonder," I said. "One experience like that would be enough to make me sign the pledge for ever."
Bruce came to the table and picked up the Nadir Bandar.
"What are you going to wish?" I asked mischievously. "For goodness' sake be careful."