seemingly so sensitive that a rough word would quench it for ever. When
I had kissed my cousin, I blew steadily and fiercely from the
south-west. Instantly a large tongue of fire flared half-way to where
Jonah was eating his porridge and knitting his brows over _The Times_.

Jill's hand began to shake.

"You wicked child," said I. "You knew----"

"Oh, Boy, but it's so silly. We had to leave it for you. Jonah nearly
burst himself just now, trying."

"Thing's bewitched," said Jonah calmly. "The more air you give it, the
fiercer it burns. I'd sooner try to blow out a hurricane lamp."

"Nonsense," said I, taking a deep breath.

At the end of the round--

"Yes," said Jonah. "Do you mind blowing the other way next time? It's
not my face I'm worrying about, but this is the only copy of _The Times_
in the house."

Jill was helpless with laughter, so I took the lamp away from her and
advanced to the fireplace.

"I'll fix the swine," I said savagely.

Two minutes later, with a blast that almost blew the lamp out of my
hand, the flame was extinguished in a flurry that would have done credit