has one particle of manners. They won't even sell me a bottle of toothache drops. And I wasn't going to touch that dentist—until he had cured me and wrapped up the bottle nicely in paper. Not a touch was I going to touch him until he had done that."

He opened his mouth so wide to roar with grief that I flew out of it. I had meant to give him a lesson and I'd given him one. When I flew out of his mouth of course his beautiful double teeth stopped aching. It was such a relief to him that it made quite a change in his nature and he sat up and began to smile. It was a slow smile which spread into a grin even while the tear–drops hung on his whiskers.

"My word! How nice," he said. "It's stopped."

I had flown to the top of his ear and I shouted down it.

"I stopped it," I said. "And I began it. And if you don't behave yourself, I'll give you earache and that will be worse."

Before I had given him his lesson he would have jumped at me but now he knew better. He tried to touch my feelings and make me sorry for him. He put one paw before his eyes and began to sniff again.

"I am a poor sensitive lonely orphan Lion,' he said.

"You are nothing of the sort," I answered very sharply. "You are not poor, and heaven knows you are not sensitive, and you needn't be lonely. I don't know whether you are an orphan or not—and I don't care. You are a nasty, ill–tempered, selfish, biting, chewing thing."

"There's a prejudice against Lions," he wept. "People don't like them. They never invite them to children's parties—nice little fat, tender, children's parties—where they would enjoy themselves so much—and the refreshments would be just what they like best. They don't even invite them to grown–up parties. What I want to ask you is this: has one of those villagers called on me since I came here—even a tough one?"

"Nice stupids they would be if they did," I answered.

He lifted up his right paw and shook his head from side to side in the most mournful way.

"There," he said. "You are just as selfish as the rest. Everybody is selfish. There is no brotherly love or consideration in the world. Sometimes I can scarcely bear it. I am going to ask you another question, and it is almost like a riddle. Who did you ever see try to give pleasure to a Lion?"

I got into his ear then and shouted down it as loud as ever I could.

"Who did you ever see a Lion try to give pleasure to?" I said. "You just think over that. And when you find the answer, tell it to me."

I don't know whether it was the newness of the idea, or the suddenness of it, but he turned pale. Did you ever see a Lion turn pale? I never did before and it was funny. You know people's skins turn pale but a Lion's skin is covered with hair and you can't see it, so his hair has to turn pale or else you would never know he was turning pale at all. This Lion's hair was a beautiful tawny golden color to begin with and first his whiskers turned white and then his big mane and then his paws and then his body and last his long splendid tail with the huge fluffy tuft on the end of it. Then he stood up and his tail hung down and he said weakly:

"I do not know the answer to that riddle. I will go and lie down in my Cave. I do not believe I have one friend in this world." And he walked into his Cave and laid down and sobbed bitterly.

He forgot I was inside his ear and that he carried me with him. But I can tell you I had given him something to think of and that was what he needed. This way of feeling that nothing in the world but a Lion has a right to be comfortable—just because you happen to be a Lion yourself—is too silly for anything.

I flew outside his ear and boxed it a little.

"Come!" I said. "Crying won't do you any good. Are you really