ou 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."

"There you are then," said the Lion. "_Ridge-Well_, what more do you
want? Now I suppose you wish to know who I am? Well, I don't mind
telling you. I am the Pleasant-Faced Lion. I am the only real Lion of
the four, consequently I have a more intelligent expression than the
others. The other three are only just common lions, and are always
asleep. Now _I_ come to life once in every generation and have a talk
to the children, or to any one grown up who is imaginative enough to
understand me. I like children, they are a hobby of mine. I am not in
my usual spirits to-day," continued the Lion, "I have caught cold."

"Have you?" said Ridgwell. "I am very sorry."

"Yes, they washed me for Trafalgar Day in some beastly solution which
was most unsuitable to me. I cannot shake off the cold. Hang on!"
shouted the Lion suddenly, "I am going to sneeze, and I may shake you
off the pedestal." Whereupon the Lion grabbed Ridgwell gently with his
paw to steady him, and after sneezing heavily, proceeded. "After
washing me for Trafalgar Day, which was most unnecessary, they hung a
ridiculous wreath round my neck with a large N in leaves upon it. To
add to the injury, an absurd person stood staring at me and explained
to her children that the N stood for Napoleon. Bah!!!" growled the
Lion. "Bah!!! Ignorance!"

"What did it stand for?" asked Ridgwell.

"Nile," grunted the Lion. "Short for Battle of the Nile."

"But I am so astonished. I did not know that you could talk, Mister
Lion."

"Oh, for Heaven's sake don't call me Mister Lion, call me Lal."

"Why Lal?" inquired Ridgwell.

"Short for