"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 you call it
cooel and dangerous because, if you went too far and tumbled in, you'd
get d'owned."

"No, not river-edge," I explained; "rev-enge" (saying the word very
slowly and distinctly). 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 attempting to
repeat the word.

"Come! try and pronounce it, Bruno!" I said, cheerfully. "Rev-enge,
rev-enge."

But Bruno only tossed his little head, and said he couldn't; that his
mouth wasn't the right shape for words of that kind. And the more I
laughed, the more sulky the little fellow got about it.

"Well, never mind, little man!" I said. "Shall I help you with the job
you've got there?"

"Yes, please," Bruno said, quite pacified. "Only I wish I could think
of something to vex her more than this. You don't know how hard it is
to make her ang'y!"

"Now listen to me, Bruno, and I'll teach you quite a splendid kind of
revenge!"