"Suppose it was a cow! Wouldn't it be
dreadful for the other things!"
"And all these things happened to him," said the Professor.
"That's what makes the song so interesting."
"He must have had a very curious life," said Sylvie.
"You may say that!" the Professor heartily rejoined.
"Of course she may!" cried Bruno.
By this time we had come up to the Gardener, who was standing on one
leg, as usual, and busily employed in watering a bed of flowers with an
empty watering-can.
"It hasn't got no water in it!" Bruno explained to him, pulling his
sleeve to attract his attention.
"It's lighter to hold," said the Gardener. "A lot of water in it makes
one's arms ache." And he went on with his work, singing softly to himself
"The nights are very damp!"
"In digging things out of the ground which you probably do now and
then," the Professor began in a loud voice; "in making things into
heaps--which no doubt you often do; and in kicking things about with
one heel--which you seem never to leave off doing; have you ever
happened to notice another Professor something like me, but different?"
"Never!" shouted the Gardener, so loudly and violently that we all drew
back in alarm. "There ain't such a thing!"
"We will try a less exciting topic," the Professor mildly remarked to
the children. "You were asking--"
"We asked him to let us through the garden-door," said Sylvie:
"but he wouldn't: but perhaps he would for you!"
The Professor put the request, very humbly and courteously.
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