"Five minutes' lessons a day!" said the Warden. "Yon won't learn much at that rate, little man!"
"That's just what Sylvie says," Bruno rejoined. "She says I wont learn my lessons. And I tells her, over and over, I cant learn 'em. And what doos 00 think she says? She says *It isn't cant, it's wontl' "
"Let's go and see the Professor," the Warden said, wise- ly avoiding further discussion. The children got down oflf his knees, each secured a hand, and the happy trio set off for the Library — followed by me. I had come to the con- clusion by this time that none of the party (except, for a few moments, the Lord Chancellor) was in the least able to see me.
"What's the matter with him?" Sylvie asked, walking with a little extra sedateness, by way of example to Bruno at the other side, who never ceased jumping up and down.
"What was the matter — but I hope he's all right now — was lumbago, and rheumatism, and that kind of thing. He's been curing himself, you know: he's a very learned doctor. Why, he's actually invented three new diseases, be- sides a new way of breaking your collar-bone!"
"Is it a nice way?" said Bruno.
"Well, hum, not very," the Warden said, as we entered the Library. "And here is the Professor. Good morning, Professor! Hope you're quite rested after your journey!"
A jolly-looking, fat little man, in a flowery dressing- gown, with a large book under each arm, came trotting in at the other end of the room, and was going straight across without taking any notice of the children. "I'm looking for Vol. Three," he said. "Do you happen to have seen itr
"You don't see my children. Professor!" the Warden ex- claimed, taking him by the shoulders and turning him round to face them.
