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Now there must be lots of rain-water here and when it dries up the germans are left, and they'd get into the things, and we should all die of scarlet fever. 'What are germans? 'Little waggly things you see with microscopes, said Cyril, with a scientific air. 'They give you every illness you can think of! I'm sure the paper was a necessary, just as much as the bread and meat and water.
"Too waggly?" was all I could say in so sudden an emergency. "I'm not praticular," Bruno said, carelessly: "but I do like straight animals best " "But you like a dog when it wags its tail, Sylvie interrupted. "You know you do, Bruno!" "But there's more of a dog, isn't there, Mister Sir?" Bruno appealed to me. "You wouldn't like to have a dog if it hadn't got nuffin but a head and a tail?"
Now there must be lots of rain-water here, and when it dries up the germans are left, and they'd get into the things, and we should all die of scarlet fever." "What are germans?" "Little waggly things you see with microscopes," said Cyril, with a scientific air. "They give you every illness you can think of. I'm sure the paper was a necessary, just as much as the bread and meat and water.
"It began years ago when he shed his front teeth. Mother used to offer us sixpence a tooth when they grew waggly, and we pulled them out without any fuss. We each earned sixpences in our turn, and all went well; but when Midas once began he was not content to stop, and worked away at sound, new double teeth, until he actually got out two in one afternoon.
Pulling six daisies he named them carefully, Sir Lamorac, Sir Tristram, Sir Lancelot, Sir Palimedes, Sir Bors, Sir Gawain, and fought them in couples till only Sir Lamorac, whom he had selected for a specially stout stalk, had his head on, and even he, after three encounters, looked worn and waggly. A beetle was moving slowly in the grass, which almost wanted cutting.
But if you admire big waggly ears, and a tail like a paint-brush, and hoofs big enough for an elephant, and a long neck and a body so skinny that one can count the ribs with one eye shut if that's your idea of beauty, Hank then either you or I must be much mistaken." "You're full of edges," sneered the Mule. "If I were square, as you are, I suppose you'd think me lovely."
Pulling six daisies he named them carefully, Sir Lamorac, Sir Tristram, Sir Lancelot, Sir Palimedes, Sir Bors, Sir Gawain, and fought them in couples till only Sir Lamorac, whom he had selected for a specially stout stalk, had his head on, and even he, after three encounters, looked worn and waggly. A beetle was moving slowly in the grass, which almost wanted cutting.
"He's not afraid of them, you know. But he doesn't like them. He says they're too waggly!" Words fail me to describe the beauty of the little group couched on a patch of moss, on the trunk of the fallen tree, that met my eager gaze: Sylvie reclining with her elbow buried in the moss, and her rosy cheek resting in the palm of her hand, and Bruno stretched at her feet with his head in her lap.
"No, he doesn't like them," she repeated with a pretty mock-gravity. "He's not afraid of them, you know. But he doesn't like them. He says they're too waggly!" I was more startled than I liked to show.
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