A Bishop was coming to see the Pack—a very, very agèd Bishop, very holy and very wise. The Cubs felt rather nervous. But, of course, it was a great honour. They scrubbed out their headquarters, and decorated it with evergreens. And they arranged a Council Rock for the Bishop to sit on—a big wooden armchair.

“When you have given the Bishop a Grand Howl,” said the Cubmaster, “he will sit on the Council Rock and speak a few words to you.”

“Will it be a sermon?” asked the Cubs, pulling long faces. They didn’t like sermons, you see.

“Yes,” said the Cubmaster.
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When the Bishop arrived he had such merry, little twinkling eyes and such a kind smile that the Cubs were not a bit afraid of him. He talked in such a jolly way that they quite forgot how very respectful they ought to be; and they crowded round him and all told him things at the sa............