"You ought really to have entered men's service too, old friend," he said. "It's good and snug there. And what else is to become of old fogeys like you and me? Of course, we have to do what is required of us; but then we get what we want in return."
"Perhaps it's there you got your fleas?" asked the apple-tree, sarcastically. "For you certainly have all you want of them!"
But the dog had already jogged back into the garden and did not hear.
2
Soon after, a blackbird came flying and perched on one of the tree's thickest branches. He flapped his wings and then rubbed his beak against the branch.
"You're welcome," said the apple-tree.
She knew that the blackbird always did like that, after he had been eating, and she was a courteous tree, when no one offended her.
"Thank you," said the blackbird and went on rubbing his beak.