When the copter had gone, Judy sat herself down at the table with pencil and paper. "We must compile a list of suitable words to teach them. Let's figure out which ones are most important.... Broom," she said aloud as she scribbled, "and sink and dust and laundry...."
There was a thump at the door. They looked at each other. Under the lure of food, plus the attractions of a second handball court, the natives had been persuaded to withdraw their athletic endeavors from the vicinity of the house, so the knock could not be the result of a fortuitous stone.
Jane looked out of the window. "It's a very little native, and he's banging a can on the door. How cute!" Since there weren't enough serving utensils, cans had been distributed to the natives to be used as dishes. Even so, there hadn't been sufficient to go around, and the fact that this individual had been canny enough to pre-empt one for his exclusive use argued a superior mentality.
Judy got up and opened the door. "Oup," said the native, thrusting his tin forward suggestively. "Oup."
"It isn't time for supper, dear."
The native gave her a winning smile, and proposed an alternative. "Orridge," he said. "Orridge."
Both girls gasped. The natives had been fed other things besides soup, but heretofore none had used any word other than "oup" to describe food generically or specifically.
"Obviously he has linguistic aptitude," Judy decided. "Just the one to start teaching English to. Come on in, dear." She opened the door wider.
"Judy! You remember what Ned—what the boys said!"
"Oh, them! I can't give English lessons outside with all the natives throwing stones and howling. Besides, this is such a little fellow, he couldn't matter too much. And he is in already."