“But you see the kangaroo won’t stand up, so I have to put the tiger with the elephant. Then you sing it this way”
And he took up the chant again:
“They marched the animals, two by two,
One wide river to cross—
The elephant and the tigeroo,
One wide river to cross.”
“Do you like it?” asked Phil, looking up into Susan’s face with a smile.
Susan nodded with an energy that set her curls a-bobbing.
“There’s Grandmother in the window,” said she. “Let’s go in and see her.”
Grandmother put down her knitting to welcome Philip, and bade Susan pass the cinnamon cookies.
“I know my mother likes me to eat them,” announced Phil, silent until he had disposed of his cooky, “because she wants me to grow fat.”
“Perhaps she would like you to take another one,” said Grandmother, hiding a smile and passing the plate again.
“I was sick,” went on Phil, whose tongue seemed loosened by the second cinnamon cooky. “I was sick so long I nearly all melted away. My father calls me Spindle Shanks. But I’m going to grow big and fat now—if I eat enough,” he added with his eyes on the plate of cakes.