said Blessington. "And let's see who can run the fastest back to the house."
Blessington ran the least fast, and Archie tripped over a croquet-hoop, and so Jeannie won, and very nearly began telling her mother about it all before Archie arrived. But, though breathless, he shrilly chipped in.
"And then I picked a crisantepum, and we had a procession across the lawn, and made a lovely grave by the tool-house, and I said prayers, though Jeannie told me you didn't have prayers for thrushes. Mummy, when I grow up, may I be a clergyman?"
"Why, dear?"
"Don't they have lots of funerals?"
"Pooh; that's the undertaker," said Jeannie. "Besides, I did say Amen, Archie."
"I know. But mummy, why did Cyrus kill the. thrush? Why did he want to hurt it and kill it? That was the part I didn't like, and I expect the thrust hated it. Wasn't it cruel of him? But if he kills another, may we have another funeral?"
He stood still a moment, cudgelling his small brain in order to grasp exactly what he felt.
"The poor thrush!" he said. "I wish Cyrus hadn't killed it. But, if it's got to be dead, I like funerals."
Tea, on such solemn occasions as birthday feasts, took place for Archie, not in the nursery, but in the drawing-room, as better providing the proper pomp. He appreciated that, and secretly was pleased that Harry Travers should be ushered by William into the drawing-room, and have the door held open for him, and be announced as Mr. Travers. With that streak of snobbishness common to almost all small boys Archie thought it rather jolly, without swaggering at all, to be able to greet his friend in the midst of these glories, so that he could see their splendour for himself. In other ways, he would have perhaps preferred the
