THE GOLDEN AGE
tradicted Edward. 'Nearly all the lions in the story-books are good lions. There was Androcles' lion, and St. Jerome's lion, and—and—and the Lion and the Unicorn——'
'He beat the Unicorn,' observed Harold dubiously, 'all round the town.'
'That proves he was a good lion,' cried Edward triumphantly. 'But the question is, how are you to tell 'em when you see 'em?'
'I should ask Martha,' said Harold of the simple creed.
Edward snorted contemptuously, then turned to Charlotte. 'Look here,' he said; 'let's play at lions, anyhow, and I'll run on to that corner and be a lion,—I'll be two lions, one on each side of the road,—and you'll come along, and you won't know whether I'm chained up or not, and that'll be the fun!'
'No, thank you,' said Charlotte firmly; 'you'll be chained up till I'm quite close to you, and then you'll be loose, and you'll tear me in pieces, and make my frock all dirty, and p'raps you'll hurt me as well. I know your lions!'
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