the
garden at last--I've left out a lot but you won't care, I'll tell you
some other time--and they were all playing croquet, and that's where the
flamingo comes in, and the Queen shouted out, "Off with her head!"'

At this point Jerry collapsed forward, suddenly and completely, his bald
pate between his knees. Charlotte was not very angry this time. The
sudden development of tragedy in the story had evidently been too much
for the poor fellow. She straightened him out, wiped his nose, and,
after trying him in various positions, to which he refused to adapt
himself, she propped him against the shoulder of the (apparently)
unconscious Rosa. Then my eyes were opened, and the full measure of
Jerry's infamy became apparent. This, then, was what he had been playing
up for! The rascal had designs, had he? I resolved to keep him under
close observation.

'If you'd been in the garden,' went on Charlotte reproachfully, 'and
flopped down like that when the Queen said "Off with his head!" she'd
have offed with your head; but Alice wasn't that sort of girl at all.
She just said, "I'm not afraid of you, you're nothing but a pack of
cards"--O dear! I've got to the end already, and I hadn't begun hardly!
I never can make my stories last out! Never mind, I'll tell you another
one.'

Jerry didn't seem to care, now he had gained his end, whether the
stories lasted out or not. He was nestling against Rosa's plump form
with a look of satisfaction that was simply idiotic; and one arm had
disappeared from view--was it round her waist? Rosa's natural blush
seemed deeper than usual, her head inclined shyly--it must have been
round her waist.

'If it wasn't so near your bedtime,' continued Charlotte reflectively,
'I'd tell you a nice story with a bogy in it. But you'd be frightened,
and you'd dream of bogies all night. So I'll tell you one about a White
Bear, only you mustn't scream when the bear says 'Wow,' like I used to,
'cos he's a good bear really----'

Here Rosa fell flat on her back in the deadest of faints. Her limbs were
rigid, her eyes glassy. What had Jerry been doing? It must have been
something very bad, for her to take on like that. I scrutinised him
carefully, while Charlotte ran to comfort the damsel. He appeared to be
whistling a tune and regarding the scenery. If I only possessed Jerry's
command of feature, I thought to myself, half regretfully, I would never
be found out in anything.

'It's all your fault, Jerry,' sa