said this, he savagely tore a heartsease in two, and trampled on the pieces.
"What are you doing there, Bruno?" I said.
"Spoiling Sylvie's garden," was all the answer Bruno would give at first. But, as he went on tearing up the flowers, he muttered to himself "The nasty cross thing——wouldn't let me go and play this morning,——said I must finish my lessons first——lessons, indeed! I'll vex her finely, though!"
"Oh, Bruno, you shouldn't do that!" I cried. "Don't you know that's revenge? And revenge is a wicked, cruel, dangerous thing!"
"River-edge?" said Bruno. "What a funny word! I suppose oo call it cruel and dangerous 'cause, if oo wented too far and tumbleded in, oo'd get drownded."
"No, not river-edge," I explained: "revenge" (saying the word very slowly). But I couldn't help thinking that Bruno's explanation did very well for either word.
"Oh!" said Bruno, opening his eyes very wide, but without trying to repeat the word
"Come! Try and pronounce it, Bruno!" I said, cheerfully. "Re-venge, re-venge."
