By this time Royal had run up to where she was, very eager to look in and see the little duckling.
“Is it alive, Lucy?” said he. “Is it alive?”
“Yes,” said Lucy; and she moved away a little of the cotton, and let Royal look in. The duckling held up its head, and began to peep. It was alive, and pretty strong, and covered with a soft, silky down, like the ducklings which Royal and Lucy had seen in the water.
“You said he was all covered with bristles,” said Royal.
“Yes,” replied Lucy, “but they have all grown out into feathers.”
“O Lucy,” said Royal, “what a beautiful little duckling! I wish I had it. Didn’t she give it partly to me? To me and you together, I guess it was,” he added.
“No,” replied Lucy, “to me alone. She gave it altogether to me.”
“Well,” said Royal, “I wish you would let me own it with you;” and then he added, after a moment’s pause, “I’ll make you a duck pond, Lucy; you must have a duck pond.”
“You can’t make a duck pond,” said Lucy.
“O Lucy! yes I can,” replied Royal.