eams_ out--but he did look so
cold and mis'rable, I thought you wouldn't objec'."

At this moment a housemaid came up to say there were visitors in the
drawing-room.

"It is your two uncles from India," said Aunt Lucy, taking Bobbie's
reluctant hand. "They have come on purpose to see you, so you must
leave the guinea-pigs for a minute--Jerry can stay with them, and
come down as soon as you return."

Bobbie departed groaning, while the under-nurse good-naturedly made up
the fire, and began to dry the guinea-pigs with an old duster.

In a few minutes Bobbie returned, his fat round face red with the
exertion of scrambling upstairs, his brown eyes sparkling.

"What are they like?" enquired Jerry, who was not fond of visitors, as
Anne brushed at her curly hair, and tried in vain to flatten it to the
nursery regulation of smoothness.

"Oh, two middle-aged, light gentlemen," replied Bobbie carelessly.
"One gave me a shilling to buy a guinea-pig, so now I'm quite safe in
telling James to bring them on Friday." And Bobbie seated himself
before the fire with Habbakuk and Funnel on his knees, and rubbed away
at them vigorously.

Jerry retired downstairs, but reappeared in a very short time--rushing
into the room again like a whirlwind.

"What do you think the uncles have promised us, Bobbie?" she cried
excitedly; "guess the most beautifullest thing you can possibly think
of!"

"Guin----" commenced Bobbie, and checked himself hastily.

"Certainly not!" said Jerry, with decision. "I said I must run up and
tell you, you'd be so _wild_ with joy; it begins with a 'P'--but it
isn't 'pig.' Now guess again."

"Prawns, p'rambulators, prongs, pastry," commenced Bobbie rapidly.
"Well, none of those are very nice except pastry. I can't think of
anything more, Jerry, you _must_ tell me."

"Pantomime!" said Jerry, triumphantly; "_next Saturday!_--what do you
say to that?"

Bobbie's eyes twinkled. "With preserved seats, like we had last time!
Oh, splendid!" and he began to caper about the room with delight.

"Well, this _has_ been a day!" he exclaimed, as he sank down, quite
exhausted. "What a lot for my diary! I'd better write it out at once,
before I forget it."

A large book, interleaved with blotting-paper, was disinterred from
the play-box, and Bobbie sat down before it solemnly.

The greater part of this book was filled with minute accounts of what
time its owner got up, and went to bed, what pudding he had for
dinner