st
horribly fiercely.

2. The sea-lions, because they are saying "Ock, ock."

3. The lions, because the tiger may be roaring too this time.

4. The Elephant House. No, Pamela, I don't know why he is
swaying about like that.

5. The lions, because Tony did not really see the black
panther, which was asleep in one corner of its cage.

6. The Monkey House. I suppose we _must_.

7. The lions, to wait there till they are fed.

The only trouble about this order is that you may not have much time
to visit the Mappin Terraces, and it is of course very important that
you should go there because of the bears. The bears by rights should
be fed on umbrellas, because they suck the stick and the ribs of the
frame for all the world as if they were pieces of asparagus, and tear
the silk part very carefully into tiny little shreds. But umbrellas
are very expensive just now and the keeper does not think they are
very good for the bears either. It is better to give them oranges, but
oranges are expensive too, so you must make quite certain that you do
not waste them on the grizzlies which are not on the Mappin Terraces
at all. It is no use giving an orange to a grizzly bear, because it
goes down with one quick motion, like the red into the right-hand top
pocket. But if you give it to one of the Himalayan bears he opens it
and scoops out all the inside and guzzles it up and then sits down and
licks his paws exactly like a Christian, and while he is doing that
the other Himalayan bear comes up and is so annoyed at not having an
orange too that he lies down and groans with rage and flaps himself
with his paws. So you have to get another orange.

Another thing that you have missed all this time and ought to see if
possible is the Antelope House, where the telephone is. I don't know why
the antelopes want a telephone more than all the other animals, but
they do. Of course if they knew how bad the telephone is they would
realise that with their long legs they could get there and back again
in much quicker time than it takes to get a call through.

And then there are the Small Birds. It is not known to everybody,
least of all, I think, to poets, that the nightingale sings best of
all in a cage in broad daylight and amongst a lot of other birds,
all twittering away like anything. We should like to take Mr. ROBERT
BRIDGES to the Small Birds' House. We should like to take Mr. ROBERT
SMILLIE there too,