'Don't you know?' said Cherry; 'a beautiful bright little fish, and the good male one swims up and down taking care of the nest.'
'I do like the beaver,' allowed Wilmet. 'It always was my favourite beast.'
'It hits off the respectable householder element,' added Edgar. 'Three flaps of his broad tail rule beaverdom like Jupiter's nod.'
'I have one,' interposed Robina.—'Bella-donna lily, working bee, menura—'
'Hold hard!' called Lance; 'is a menura fish, flesh, or fowl?'
'Fowl: the lyre-tailed pheasant, that makes a shelter for its nest with its own tail.'
'Decided liar tale,' muttered Edgar.
'Go on, Bobbie,' Felix encouraged her. 'The pheasant suits both the twins as well as the bella-donna. Any more?'
'Perhaps the leading stag of the herd.'
'Don't make us like that proud, cowardly, tyrannical beast,' exclaimed Wilmet.