"Squeezeled!" Bruno interrupted.
"Yes." Sylvie accepted the correction, but did not attempt to pronounce the word, which was evidently new to her. "They get——like that——and they come out, oh, ever so long!"
"Once," Bruno began again, "Sylvie and me writed——"
"Wrote!" Sylvie whispered.
"Well, we wroted a Nursery-Song, and the Professor mangled it longer for us. It were 'There was a little Man, And he had a little gun. And the bullets——'"
"I know the rest," I interrupted. "But would you say it long——I mean the way that it came out of the mangle?"
"We'll get the Professor to sing it for you," said Sylvie. "It would spoil it to say it."
"I would like to meet the Professor," I said. "And I would like to take you all with me, to see some friends of mine, that live near here. Would you like to come?"
"I don't think the Professor would like to come," said Sylvie. "He's very shy. But we'd like it very much. Only we'd better not come this size, you know."
