"I couldn't help it," said Edna apologetically.
"You poor, little, old kitten, of course you couldn't. Well, I have brought you up Mr. Fox, and I wanted to tell you that the lady by the willow has had another accident; she dropped her last chocolate marshmallow and the dog stepped on it. Of course, that wasn't as bad as the first, but when you have only one handkerchief it is pretty hard to have to cry it twice full of tears. Fortunately, hers has had a chance to dry between whiles."
Edna smiled. It was good to have Ben come in with his nonsense. "Hasn't she found her eyelash yet?"
"No, and it was a wet one which is awfully hard to find unless it is raining; it is hard enough then, goodness knows. How did you stand all the racket this morning? If a noisy noise annoys an oyster, how much of a noisy noise does it take to annoy Pinky Blooms? That sounds like a problem in mental arithmetic, but it isn't. Shall I read to you a little?"
"Oh, please."
"About Reynard, the Fox, shall it be?"
"Oh, yes. I do so want to know how he lost his tail."
"Then, here goes," said Ben, as he opened the big, red book. Edna settled herself back against the pillows and Ben began the story, while Edna was so interested that she forgot all about her headache. He finished the tale before he put the book down. "How do you like it?" he asked.
"It is perfectly fine. Are there other stories in that book?"
"Yes, some mighty good ones. Here, do you want to see the pictures? They are funny and old-fashioned, but they are pretty good for all that." He laid the book across Edna's knees and showed her the illustrations relating to Reynard, the Fox, all of which interested her vastly.