“Because you scared their mamma away from them, I suppose, when you found the nest.”
“Why, no, we didn’t. She just went away. We said ‘Chick, chick, chick!’s to her, an’ she just ran around an’ cackled, so we s’posed she’d got through with the nest, and we took what was in it to keep ’em from bein’ spoiled. Papa says eggs always spoil when they lie out in the sunshine. What do you s’pose that poor hen mamma’ll think when she comes walkin’ along that way some day an’ sees all her dear little children lyin’ around mussed up in the grass?”
“She will probably think that some meddlesome little boys have been along that way, and haven’t cared for anything or anybody but themselves.”
Budge looked up quickly into his aunt’ face, but finding neither humor nor sympathy there he sighed deeply and started to rejoin his brother.
“Budge!” said Mrs. Burton.
The child arrested his steps, and looked back inquiringly.
“When you want anything, as, for instance, that pail to boil eggs in, the proper way to do is to ask for it honestly and if some grown person refuses to give it to you, you should be satisfied with the reasons they give and make no trouble about it. You ought to love what is right so much that you will be ashamed to get around it in some underhand way.”
“Why, ’tain’t any underhand way to say just what I think, is it?” Budge asked. “Papa says folks ought always to be honest, and say just exactly what they mean, an’ I’m sure I always do it, but I like to say things the way that I think folks listen to ’em best. Ain’t that the way that you do?”
Mrs. Burton could not say “No,” and would not say “Yes,” so she walked off and left her nephew master of the field, from which he himself soon retired in response to repeated shouts of “Budgie!” from his brother.
“Oh, Budgie,” exclaimed Toddie, as the former rejoined him,” izhe got him! Oh, izhe got him! Ain’t you glad?”