all who ate the food, was crawling about his nursery, smashing
furniture, biting like a horse, pinching like a vice, and bawling
gigantic baby talk at his "Nanny" and "Mammy" and the rather scared and
awe-stricken "Daddy," who had set this mischief going.

The child was born with good intentions. "Padda be good, be good," he
used to say as the breakables flew before him. "Padda" was his
rendering of Pantagruel, the nickname Redwood imposed on him. And
Cossar, disregarding certain Ancient Lights that presently led to
trouble, did, after a conflict with the local building regulations, get
building on a vacant piece of ground adjacent to Redwood's home, a
comfortable well-lit playroom, schoolroom, and nursery for their four
boys--sixty feet square about this room was, and forty feet high.

Redwood fell in love with that great nursery as he and Cossar built it,
and his interest in curves faded, as he had never dreamt it could fade,
before the pressing needs of his son. "There is much," he said, "in
fitting a nursery. Much.

"The walls, the things in it, they will all speak to this new mind of
ours, a little more, a little less eloquently, and teach it, or fail to
teach it a thousand things."

"Obviously," said Cossar, reaching hastily for his hat.

They worked together harmoniously, but Redwood supplied most of the
educational theory required ...

They had the walls and woodwork painted with a cheerful vigour; for the
most part a slightly warmed white prevailed, but there were bands of