"It might have been worse," replied her husband. "Suppose it had happened a month ago! Now the youngsters are able to look after themselves, all except that one there."
"Oh, it was a terrible place to come to!" said she. "It was a great shame of you to drag me here. I would much rather have remained in Italy, even if I had never got married."
"Don't talk nonsense, wife," said he. "You wanted to come here just as much as I did. This is where we were born and where our home is and where we had to build our nest. We can't help it; it's in our blood. Besides, we have had a very good time, and have shared each other's joys and sorrows. Don't let us squabble now in our old age, but rather see that we get the children's travelling-suits ready and then be off."
Then she became sensible and they sat late into the night and talked about it. The youngsters ran round in the grass and ate ants and thought the whole thing great fun, for children know no better. Only the fifth one hung about disconsolately.
"What are we to do with the poor little wretch?" said Mrs. Reed-Warbler, pushing a mouthful to him.
"We shall never get him to Italy alive," said her husband.
Quite early next morning there was a tremendous uproar round the pond.
Men shouted and dogs barked. They put out the boat and rowed her with difficulty through the thick weeds. The woman of the pond stood outside her cottage, curtseying and pouring out tea.
"Whatever is this?" asked the reed-warbler.
"It's the world coming to an end," said the duck. "Quack! Quack! Quack!"