“Well, I’m not sayin’ where it wint,” Biddy replied, “but I’m thinkin’ it’s loikly to shtay there.”
“Kenny, you didn’t touch it, did you?”
Kenneth regarded her with a scorn almost too deep for words.
“I touch your fool old spinach? You better ask Floss and Skip about it. I saw ’em hopping downstairs this afternoon.”
“It was carrots,” Eunice explained.
“Well, it ain’t now,” grumbled Kenneth. “You blame me for everything.”
When Eunice went out to feed the bunnies, she would call, “Finny-fin, fin, fin, fin, FIN-ny!” (the “rabbit yell”), and then there would come a leaping and jumping of white tails, from every direction. Little ears would stand up suddenly from the grass, like swift-opening flowers, and the ferns would tremble as with the rushing of many winds. John Alden always hurried to the scene, hoping every time that he might pass for a rabbit; but Eunice addressed him with contempt, as “Johnny-that-rooster-hum,” and drove him off, heedless of his reproachful squawks.
But Flossy and Skip ate together, for it was quite useless to try and separate them.
“That’s a curious friendship,” Mrs. Wood said; “I never heard of a case like it before.”
“I don’t think it’s strange at all,” Franklin said. “She respects him because he can dig, and he admires her because she can lay eggs. I’ve known lots of fellows who hadn’t half as much reason for friendship as that.”