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“You must excuse my going to the cupboard and waiting upon myself,” he remarked. “I do keep a tom-tit, but the weather was so fine that I thought it only fair to give him an afternoon out, so I must lay my own tea.” He placed one half of a walnut-shell, a few clover blossoms, and a scrap of honey-comb upon the mushroom table, and sat down on the other toadstool, opposite to his guest.

“If you have not already had your tea,” he continued, “I can recommend this dew, which is of the very finest quality, and kept cool by means of an icicle. I get my honey from an excellent firm, Buzz, Bumble and Buzz, Limited, and the clover was picked this morning. Plain fare, my dear, for this luxury-loving age, but thoroughly wholesome, I assure you. Have some?”

“I have had my tea already, thank you,” said Philomène, “but I do like the sweet ends of clover very much, if you could spare me one flower.”

“Certainly, certainly,” said the mannikin, and he handed her two, one white and one pink.

“Would you mind telling me, please,” began Philomène, “what you meant just now by speaking about green ribbons? Whose green ribbons?”