reason?'

'Yes,' said Tommy, 'those ones!'

'And the great wood with the shifting green and violet lights, and the
white bands of fairies dancing in circles--didn't you like them?'

'Oh yes,' said the candid Tommy; 'pretty well. I didn't care much for
them.'

'Well,' she said, 'but you liked the grand processions, with all their
gorgeous dresses and monstrous figures, surely you liked _them_?'

'There was such a lot of it,' said Tommy. 'The clown was the best.'

'And if you could, you'd rather see those last scenes again than all the
rest?' she said, frowning a little.

'Oh, wouldn't I just!' said Tommy; 'but may I--really and truly?'

'I see you are not one of _my_ boys,' said the Genius of Pantomime,
rather sadly. 'It so happens that those closing scenes are the very ones
I have least control over--they are a part of my kingdom which has
fallen into sad decay and rebellion. But one thing, O Tommy, I _can_ do
for you. I will give you the clown for a friend and companion--and much
good may he do you!'

'But would he _come_?' he asked, hardly daring to believe in such
condescension.

'He must, if _I_ bid him; it is for you to make him feel comfortable
and at home with you;--the longer you can keep him the better I shall be
pleased.'

'Oh, _how_ kind of you!' he cried; 'he shall stay all the holidays. I'd
rather have him than anybody else. What fun we shall have--what fun!'

The green fire faded out and the fairy with it. He must have fallen
asleep again, for, when he opened his eyes, there was the clown at the
foot of his bed making a face.

''Ullo!' said the clown; 'I say, are you the nice little boy I was told
to come and stay with?'

'Yes, yes,' said Tommy; 'I am so glad to see you. I'm just going to get
up.'

'I know you are,' said the clown, and upset him out of bed into the cold
bath.

This he could not help thinking a little bit unkind of the clown on such
a cold morning, particularly as he followed it up by throwing a
hair-brush, two pieces of soap, and a pair of shoes at him before he
could get out again.

But it woke him, at all events, and he ventured (with great respect) to
throw one of the shoes back; it just grazed the clown's top-knot.

To Tommy's alarm, the clown set up a hullaballoo as if he was mortally
injured.

'You cruel, unkind little boy,' he sobbed, 'to play so rough with a poor
clown!'

'But you threw them at me first,' pleaded Tommy, 'and much harder,
too!'

'I'm t