"And it was lucky that I happened to hear him when he cried peep, peep, instead of puss. If puss had been round, wouldn't she have snapped at him?"
"Wouldn't she?" echoed Flora.
"She would have made mince meat of Mr. Robin. There would not have been so much as a feather left. I tell you what I mean to do. Nurse him up till he gets well."
"Me, too."
"Yes, you can be the doctor, while I am at school; and if he does get well, won't I make a tip-top cage for him?"
"He will get well."
"Perhaps. But you must be careful about his diet. Don't give him anything hurtful to eat, you know."
"I won't. Give him milk and sponge cake."
"And worms. You must not forget the worms."
"Dig some?"