“Stuff!” said Mrs. Nightingale. “It’s a dear little baby, as any mother can see. Hi! Mrs. Two-Legs! Be sure you feed him on maggots. Then he’ll grow up nice and fat.”
“And, for goodness’ sake, sit on him at night!” cried Mrs. Reed-Warbler. “Else he’ll catch cold.”
“Don’t mind what any of them say!” cried Mrs. Stag. “You stick to the milk! That’s good enough. And put him down on the grass and let him run about. You had much better make him used to it from the start.”
Mrs. Two-Legs looked at her baby and did not listen to what they said. He had now finished drinking and began to crow and kick about his little legs and arms. Two-Legs took him and lifted him high in the air and laughed at him.
“Isn’t he sweet?” said Mrs. Reed-Warbler.
“He’s all that,” said Mrs. Stag. “But his parents are very self-sufficient. They won’t look at any one else.” And she called across to the island, “It’s all right, Mrs. Two-Legs. You go on with the milk. And, if you run short, come to me. My only fawn died the other day, so I have plenty!”
Then they all hurried home again, lest their husbands should come and find out that they had been gossiping.
“I’m going to fetch a couple of oranges, or something of the sort,” said Two-Legs. “It may be some time before I’m back, for we’ve eaten everything on the trees round about here.”
“Be as quick as you can,” replied his wife. “You know I don’t care to be alone at this time.”
He waded through the river and went into the forest. After a long while, he came back, having found only a couple of poor little fruits. He was annoyed at this and so was his wife, for she was hungry. Then they sat and discussed whether they could not find something else that was fit to eat in the neighbourhood. For, once the evening had come, they did not dare leave the island.