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 talking instead of listening properly." Dicky hates poetry. I don't mind it so very much myself, especially Macaulay's and Kipling's and Noël's.

"There was a lot more—'lame' and 'dame' and 'name' and 'game' and things—and now I've forgotten it," Noël said, in gloom.

"Never mind," Alice answered, "it'll come back to you in the silent watches of the night; you see if it doesn't. But really, Noël's right, it ought to have a name."

"Free Drinks Company."

"Thirsty Travellers' Rest."

"The Travellers' Joy."

These names were suggested, but not cared for extra.

Then some one said—I think it was Oswald:

"Why not 'The House Beautiful'?"

"It can't be a house, it must be in the road. It'll only be a stall."

"The 'Stall Beautiful' is simply silly," Oswald said.

"The 'Bar Beautiful' then," said Dicky, who knows what the "Rose and Crown" bar is like inside, which of course is hidden from girls.

"Oh, wait a minute," cried the Dentist, snapping his fingers like he always does when he is trying to remember things. "I thought of something, only Daisy tickled me and it's gone—I know—let's call it the Benevolent Bar!"

It was exactly right, and told the whole truth in two words. "Benevolent" showed it was free,