"It's a nice friendly animal," explained George.
"Would he make gude eating?" asked the Yellow Leaf.
"Might be a bit tough, but he'd make splendid soup," said George.
"I ha' no craving vor gigantic tor-toyses, thankye. And if I did crave vor 'en, how be I to know he'm yours to sell?"
"Of course it's mine. Everything belongs to me," said George sharply.
"Then you have been told lies."
"I ha' heard another tale."
"I hears plenty o' they. Don't ye ever think o' driving that old toat of a tor-toys into my garden, vor if you does I'll kick 'en." And with these words the Yellow Leaf withdrew into his cottage, munching severely at his bread and jam.
Bessie has been talking, thought George, as he went along the road, to pause beside a potato patch where Squinting Jack was whistling as he worked. He looked up and nodded, then went on digging, while George drew near and remarked:
"I'm selling off the animals."