"What is the matter with them?" asked the boy. "Are they displeased?"
"Don't be alarmed," said the Cat. "They are a little annoyed because Spring is late...."
And she went on talking into Tyltyl's ear, to divert his attention from what was happening.
While the trusting lad was listening to her fibs, the others were discussing which form of execution would be the most practical and the least dangerous. The Bull suggested a good butt with the horns; the Beech offered his highest branch to hang the little Children on; and the Ivy was already preparing a slip-knot! The Fir-tree was willing to give the four planks for the coffin and the Cypress the perpetual grant of a tomb.
"By far the simplest way," whispered the Willow, "would be to drown them in one of my rivers."
And the Pig grunted between his teeth:
"In my opinion, the great thing would be to eat the little girl.... She ought to be very tender...."
"Silence!" roared the Oak. "What we have to decide is which of us shall have the honour of striking the first blow!"
"That honour falls to you, our King!" said the Fir-tree.
"Alas, I am too old!" replied the Oak. "I am blind and infirm! To you, my evergreen brother, be the glory, in my place, of striking the decisive blow that shall set us free."