“A bird that eats every thing he can get his claws on,” said Jules. “Why didn’t you leave some?”
“I vas brought oop to love mine neighbor ash myself. I dinks it ish not right to eat vrogs. Put I dink so mooch more off my neighbor dat I vill not leaf vrog soup vor a demptation.”
“Sacrifice yourself for the public good, you old hog?” said Jules.
“Yaw. Dat ish drue. I sees dat if I does not eat him you vould do it, unt I dink so mooch off mine frent dat I vould not leaf it. Dat ish all apout it.”
“Do you mean to eat any more if I make him?” demanded Jules.
“Yaw. Venever you makes vrog soup I vill not leaf any of him vor you. Dat ish vat I dinks apout it.”
“Perhaps you’ll get a good chance,” said the Frenchman. “And perhaps you won’t. But you’ve finished it. Perhaps you will go out with me and catch some more of them.”
“Nein!” said Jan.
“Why not? You eat them fast enough.”
“Yaw. I alvays eat dem fast enough. I know vat ish goot for mine frent, unt I dinks vrog soup very pad vor him.”