It was dark the night they saw the lion. "Nonsense," Wyndham would tell them, smirking around his meerschaum, "there are no lions in London!" But children dream of stranger things than lions. It was raining the day they saw the dragon. "Nonsense," Wyndham would exclaim, a comfortable haze drifting from his pipe, "there is no such thing as dragons!" But children dream of stranger things than dragons. It was snowing the day they saw the fairy. "Nonsense," Wyndham would state, smoke drifting from his nose, "there are simply no such things as fairies!" But children dream of stranger things than fairies. It was warm outside, the day they saw the Wyndham. "Nonsense," Wyndham would explain, his pipe clenched firmly betwixt his teeth, "I have never believed in Wyndham."