“But everybody knows that the best place for a nest is in a tree,” Jolly Robin told him.
His cousin shook his head at that.
“It’s a matter of taste,” he said. “Our family have always preferred to build their nests on the ground. And as for me, I shall continue to follow their example.... It suits me very well,” he added.
Jolly Robin couldn’t help laughing, the sight struck him as being such an odd one.
“It’s a wonder—” he remarked—“it’s a wonder your wife doesn’t bury her eggs in the sand beside the creek, like old Mrs. Turtle.”
“I’d thank you,” said the Hermit, 72 stiffly, “not to say such things about my wife.” And though he spoke politely enough, his manner was quite cold. It was clear that he felt terribly insulted.
Jolly Robin saw that he had blundered. And wishing to change the subject, he said hastily:
“Won’t you sing another song?”
So the Hermit cleared his throat and began to sing again.
Although this song was not so sad as the first one, Jolly Robin did not like it half so well. The chorus, especially, he considered quite offensive. And it is not surprising, perhaps, that it displeased him, for this is the way it went: