Chantecler
That inveterate mocker! [To the Pheasant-hen.] Leave us not alone! My soul is still open—his mockery would enter in!
The Blackbird
Ripping!
Chantecler
Where have you come from?
The Blackbird
[Indicating an empty overturned flower-pot.] From that flower-pot.
Chantecler
But how—?
The Blackbird
I was having my early snack cozily in the earthenware retreat you see, when suddenly—oh, allow me to express at once the amazement, the admiration—
Chantecler
Eavesdropping inside a pot! How can you stoop to—
The Blackbird
Hang the pot! I ve had a sensation! I tell you I was wild! My feet were doing such a horn-pipe I had trouble to keep my eye steady at the peep-hole.
The Pheasant-hen
You could see us?
The Blackbird
[Showing the hole at the bottom of the flower-pot.] Could I see you! Yonder stump of red cone has exactly the black hole to let through my yellow bill. Apologies,—but it was too tempting! A bird of taste, I am.