The round face relaxed into smiles.
“It’s my birfday, Mith Elithabeth broughted it.”
“When?” demanded Andy, glancing eagerly up the lane. “Has she gone home?”
“Yeth,” said Jimmy. Then he corrected himself, for he only lisped now in moments of great excitement. “Yes. She went home d’reckly. She said her mummy wanted her.”
Andy bent down and touched the piebald back of the animal.
“He’s like Tommy, isn’t he?”
“Better’n Tommy,” said his owner sturdily. Then his eyes rounded more widely than ever, and he remarked—
“What a funny thing to kith a cart!”
The two young gentlemen eyed each other in the sunny lane, the one curious, the other shamefaced.
It was Andy who turned away.