IT was the Wallypug running down the road at a furious pace. He had his big crown tucked under one arm and his royal cloak caught up under the other. Although he was evidently in a very great hurry, he politely tried to bow (without stopping) when he saw Girlie. The consequences, however, were most disastrous, for, completely losing his balance, he stumbled forward head over heels and then fell flat on his back, while his crown went rolling away into the ditch at the side of the road. His cloak had somehow become entangled with his legs, preventing him from getting up, so he lay there kicking and struggling in the most ridiculous manner imaginable.

Girlie kindly ran to his assistance, and, although bursting with laughter, somehow or other managed to keep a grave face while she tried to disentangle the cloak from his legs.

“I hope you have not hurt yourself much,” she said when the Wallypug at last struggled to his feet.

“Oh no, your Majesty, thank you,” he said breathlessly. Then, nervously looking around him, he said in a solemn voice, “I do hope, though, no one else saw me fall, for I am liable to a fine of three and sixpence for being undignified in public, and I am afraid that I must have looked rather undignified while I was lying on the ground. Oh dear! wherever is my crown?” he continued, looking about him anxiously.

Girlie kindly fetched it from the ditch, which was fortunately a dry one, and handed it back to him.

After examining it carefully, the Wallypug drew a small piece of wash-leather from his pocket and began to polish it up, remarking that he had always to keep the regalia bright himself.

“Where were you going to in such a hurry?” asked Girlie, while the polishing operations were going on.

“Why, to the Excursion, your Majesty,” said the Wallypug. “This is Bank Holiday, you know, and there is to be an excursion to the seaside. Aren’t you going?”

“I should like to very much,” said Girlie, “but I have no money with me.”

“Oh, it’s quite free, your Majesty,” said the Wallypug. “I have to pay for it all, you know. I always have to provide an excursion for the people on Bank Holidays, and one more or less won’t make the slightest difference, so you are quite welcome to go.”

“Thank you very much indeed,” said Girlie. “What time does the train start?”

“I haven’t the remotest idea, your Majesty,” said the Wallypug. “We never do know when the trains are going to start here; the Porter and the Station-master settle all that between themselves.”

“Then however do you know at what time to get to the station?” asked Girlie.

“We don’t know, your Majesty,” said the Wallypug. “So we just get there as early as we can and then take our chances as to how long we have to wait. How does this look now?” he continued, pulling his crown over his head and drawing himself up with the most comical attempt at looking dignified.

“Very nice, indeed,” said Girlie, trying hard not to laugh.

“Very well, your Majesty, let’s be going then,” said the Wallypug, leading the way down the road. “I’m afraid it’s going to rain,” he said a minute or two later, looking anxiously up into the sky. “We had better hurry to the station,” and, taking Girlie’s hand, they began to run. They had not gone far, however, before Girlie felt a drop of rain on her forehead, then another, and another.

“We shall have to shelter somewhere,” said the Wallypug, looking about for a tree to stand under.

“Isn’t that a house?” said Girlie, pointing further down the road. “Perhaps they would let us stop there till the shower is over.”

“Oh yes, your Majesty; that is Madame Penguin’s shop. I daresay she would be quite pleased to see us. Let’s hurry on.”

So they hastened forward and soon reached the little shop which stood at the corner of four cross roads. It was a little, low, one-storied sort of cottage built of stone. In the windows were a number of odd-looking packages and envelopes, and over the doorway there swung a sign bearing the words:

The Wallypug opened the door, causing the little bell fixed to it to tinkle violently.

Madame Penguin (who turned out to be the same Penguin Girlie had seen at the Public Meeting) came hurrying out of a little room at the back of the shop.

“Oh! how do you do?” she said when she saw Girlie, “and how are you, Wallypug?”

“Quite well, your Majesty, thank you, quite well,” said the Wallypug. “We were caught in the shower, and thought that, perhaps, you wouldn’t mind us sheltering here for a little while.”

“Delighted, I’m sure,” said Madame Penguin kindly, bustling about and placing some chairs for them to sit on. “Oh! you are wondering what are those little things in the glass cases, aren’t you, dear?” she said to Girlie, who was looking about her curiously.

“Well, yes, I was,” admitted Girlie.

“Those are Promises, my dear,” explained Madame Penguin, “and we have to keep them in glass cases because they are so very brittle; as it is, we get a great many broken ones, and then we have to sell them like this;” and she fetched a tray from the window with some little packages piled on it, marked “BROKEN PROMISES, three-a-penny each.”

“What a funny price!” thought Girlie, confusedly trying to reckon how much a dozen would cost at that rate, and having to give it up at last.

“Do you sell many of them?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, a great many,” said Madame Penguin, “but Excuses sell best. You see, we keep all kinds, and children buy a lot of ‘Excuses for not doing home lessons‘ and ‘Excuses for staying away from school.’ Then some people buy dozens at a time, for they never like to be without one, and just now I am having a great run on my ‘Excuse for not having found a goo.’ You see, nearly everybody wants one. I sold one yesterday to the Royal Microscopist. Can I show you a few?”

“I’m afraid I can’t buy any, for I have no money,” said Girlie, while the Wallypug, after fumbling about in his pocket for a minute, asked,—

“Have you any very cheap ones?” “You see, I have eighteenpence a week to spend as I like,” he explained to Girlie, “so I will buy you one, if you wish.”

“It’s very kind of you,” said Girlie, “but please don’t trouble.”

Madame Penguin, however, had reached down a large brown box filled with little packages, and placed it on the counter.

“This is a very good kind,” she said, picking out a blue one marked (extra fine); “the price is only fourpence halfpenny. The sixpenny ones are all sold. I have them as low as a penny each, though I don’t usually recommend them. Some people, however, who think that even a bad excuse is better than none, buy them.”

The Wallypug said he would have the one marked fourpence halfpenny, and, after a struggle, drew his handkerchief out of his pocket with eighteenpence all in coppers tied up in one corner of it. Solemnly counting out fivepence, he waited for the change, and then carefully tying it up in his handkerchief, which he put back into his pocket, he handed Girlie the Excuse with a low bow, politely begging her to accept it as a little present.

Girlie thanked him and began to undo the package, which she found contained a sheet of foolscap paper with the following words beautifully written on it:—

“What a splendid excuse!” said the Wallypug, when Girlie had finished reading it aloud. “They can’t get over that, can they? You see, they can either believe it or not just as they like. Did you think of it all yourself, your Majesty?” he said, turning to Madame Penguin, who was looking greatly pleased at his praise of her Excuse.

“Yes,” she said; “you see, I get quite a lot of new ideas from people who come in and out of the shop.”

“Well, I must say, your Majesty, that your Excuses are not like those of some people, who use the same ones over and over again. Now, I’m sure no one has heard that Excuse before.”

“Oh no,” said Madame Penguin, “I always make it a rule to have a different Excuse every time.”

While they were talking, Girlie walked over to the door and looked out. She could see that the shower was over, and she came back and told the Wallypug so.

“Well, then, we must be going,” he said. “I’m sure we are very much obliged to your Majesty for allowing us to shelter here.”

“Oh, don’t mention it,” said Madame Penguin, coming to the door to see them off.

“Aren’t you coming to the excursion, too?” asked Girlie.

“No, dear,” said Madame Penguin. “I am going to stop at home and write an excuse for not going. Good-bye;” and, after shaking hands with them both, Madame Penguin hurried back into her little shop.