Stepping up in front of the rudely constructed manger, Billy began to nibble at the hay. As he continued, the Duke watched him out of the corner of his eye, first glancing at Billy, now busily gorging himself, and then again at the rapidly diminishing pile of hay, then at the hay and again back at Billy. He decided to remonstrate and began:—
“Billy!”
No response.
“Oh, I say, Billy!”
“Um,” from the occupied goat.
“But Billy! I say, Bill-ee!”
“Uh-huh, what is it?”
“You remind me of Mrs. Treat.”
“I do? How?”
“You remind me of Mrs. Treat and a saying that’s so often on her lips.”