Philippe was a very good guide. He had learned much through his reading. Now he was able to show his new friends many interesting sights in Brussels. Also, he knew stories about all of them.

Brussels has been called "Paris in Little." This is because it is beautiful like Paris, with boulevards, similar buildings, and lovely parks. They passed avenues shaded by fine old lime trees. They admired statues and fountains all over the city.

Philippe led the two gentlemen to the palace of the King. The little Brussels boy pointed out a long stately building which stands just opposite a fine park.

"So this is the palace of good King Albert!" remarked the English gentleman. "He is considered a great ruler."

"He is," smiled Philippe, "and we love him."

Then the boy continued seriously, "But we Belgians and even King Albert do not like the idea of a kingdom."

"No?" inquired the Englishman, in a surprised tone.

"You know Englishmen are very true to their King."

"Yes, I have read in my books that they are," replied Philippe. "But we have good reasons for continuing with a monarchy. First, because of our love for King Albert, and then because we are afraid that without our kingdom we should split up. And you know that our motto is 'In union there is strength.'"

"But why do you fear being split up, as you say?" inquired the Englishman.

"Because," answered Philippe, "on one side of us is France, a republic; on the other side is Germany, also a republic. We Belgians are very close to both these countries because of many things. We are like them in many ways and we trade with them. We fear that without our King to hold us together we might become part of these countries. And we are very patriotic. We never want to be anything but Belgian!"

The little fellow stood and saluted the flag, which was flying from the palace.

"See! The flag!" said Philippe, pointing to the red, yellow, and black colors fluttering in the breeze. "I can tell you about that, also, if you would like me to do so."

"Certainly," replied the Englishman. Then he turned to his friend, the American, and said, "The little chap is just full of stories."

"That may be," replied the friend, "but I do not understand a word. It all sounds like Chinese to me!"

"Wait," laughed the Englishman. "I shall translate them to you later."

So Philippe told about his flag.

"The black in the flag is the King's color," said he. "It stands for constancy, wisdom, and prudence. The yellow stands for law and order. And red is for Belgium's liberty, fought for and obtained by the blood of her soldiers."

As they walked along the shady streets the English gentleman explained to his friend all that Philippe had said. The American nodded his head understandingly.

"That is very interesting," he said. "I do not blame the Belgians for being loyal to their King. They have good reasons."

"I am sure you would like to visit Waterloo," suggested Philippe. "I need not tell you the story of Waterloo," he smiled, "for everybody who has ever studied history knows about that."

But those who have not yet studied history may want to know that it is a famous battlefield where many wars were fought. The most famous of the battles was the struggle between the Duke of Wellington, who commanded the English army, and Napoleon Bonaparte who led the French.

When Philippe and his new friends had looked about for a while, the American gentleman remarked, "So this is where Napoleon met his Waterloo!"

It was here that Napoleon was conquered! That is why we still use the expression "met his Waterloo" when we mean to say "was defeated."

Philippe showed them the "Mound of the Lion," that great pyramid-shaped monument on the battlefield.

"It was built after the Battle of Waterloo, in memory of the Prince of Orange," he explained. "It is as large as a city block. The huge lion on the top is made of metal from captured French cannons. You know that the lion is the emblem of Belgium. The mound was built almost entirely by women who carried the dirt in pails."

Driving back to the city, the Englishman remarked, "It seems to me that tea time is approaching."

The little boy knew how important tea time is to Englishmen. So he suggested an excellent cafÉ where they might sit outside and watch the people.

While they were eating, Philippe explained to the Englishman how he loved to read. He told of his interest in the stories of his land.

"Then you do not want to be a chef some day like your father?" asked the gentleman.

Philippe shook his head.

"I want to do great things," he answered. "To travel, to have adventures."

The Englishman smiled.

"That is very natural," he remarked. He told his friend, the American, what the boy had said. His friend laughed.

"That sounds like an American boy," he said. "Ask him what he wants to do."

The Englishman asked Philippe this question.

The boy answered, "Oh, I should like to go to Antwerp (ant´-w[~e]rp) and Ghent (gent) and see the sights of Belgium, because I know so many stories about everything."

He then told them about his wandering friends, Tom and Zelie.

The Englishman remarked, "That is a hard life. It is much better to travel in a motor car." Then he smiled pleasantly and continued, "That is the way we travel. We are leaving for Antwerp tomorrow in our car."

Philippe's eyes shone. Here were more traveling folks. It seemed to the boy that everyone in the world was traveling except himself.

And while Philippe was thus thinking, the gentlemen were talking together in English.

Suddenly the Englishman turned to Philippe and asked, "How would you like to come along with us to Antwerp? You would make an excellent guide, since you know so much about the country."

Philippe's heart almost stopped beating.

"Oh, sir," he breathed, "that is very good of you." Then he hesitated. "But my father would not let me go."

"Where is your father?" asked the gentleman.

"At the restaurant where we lunched, sir. He is in the kitchen," replied Philippe.

"Very well; let us go and see him," suggested the Englishman.

Philippe led the gentlemen back to the restaurant. They followed him into the big kitchen.

There Philippe began to introduce them to Papa Pomme.

But the Englishman and Papa Pomme stared at one another and then they both cried out together, "Well, well, well!"

Philippe was surprised to see that Papa Pomme and this English gentleman already knew each other. They were very happy to meet again.

Papa Pomme turned to Philippe and said, "My boy, here you see a war-time friend of your father's. We were soldiers together in the World War. This gentleman was a great hero!"

The Englishman interrupted, "Oh, no, no, my friend, not so great a hero as you."

Then he looked at Papa Pomme's wooden leg and they both grew serious.

"But come! We have something to ask you," the gentleman suddenly observed. "My friend and I are going to Antwerp tomorrow. Will you allow your son to go along? We promise to take good care of him, and I'm sure he'll take splendid care of us. For you know, he has guided us through Brussels all day."

Papa Pomme fairly beamed with pride.

Then he said, "It is very kind of you, and I am delighted to have my Philippe go along with you. He has wanted so much to travel. Eh, little Philippe?"

And he pulled the boy's hair playfully.

"Oh, yes, Papa," joyfully agreed Philippe.

Papa Pomme continued, "And this time, I know that you will be safe, for you will be with an old friend of mine."

Philippe felt like dancing. What a wonderful thing had happened! He was really going on a trip. Of course, it was only to Antwerp, and then for just a few days. But even so, adventures might happen. Had Philippe known what adventure was really coming, he might not have been so happy.