And he sat bolt upright, and put on an absurdly solemn face. "First oo must sit up as straight as pokers"
"as a poker," Sylvie corrected him.
"— as straight as pokers," Bruno firmly repeated. "Then oo must clasp oor handsso. Then'Why hasn't oo brushed oor hair? Go and brush it toreckly!' Then'Oh, Bruno, oo mustn't dog's-ear the daisies!' Did oo learn oor spelling wiz daisies. Mister Sir?"
"I want to hear about that Boy's Birthday," I said.
Bruno returned to the story instantly. "Well, so this Boy said 'Now it's my Birthday!' And soI'm tired!" he suddenly broke off, laying his head in Sylvie's lap. "Sylvie knows it best. Sylvie's grown-upper than me. Go on, Sylvie!"
Sylvie patiently took up the thread of the story again. " So he said 'Now it's my Birthday. Whatever shall I do to keep my Birthday? All good little Boys" (Sylvie turned away from Bruno, and made a great pretence of whispering to me) "all good little
