"What is seventy?" said the child. "I hate it, anyway, and I won't be it."
"Hurrah!" said the man, "I hate it, too, and I won't be it, either. But as to the birds; how many should you think there were? Have you seen any of them?"
"I've seen lots and lots!" said the child, "and I've heard all the rest. When I woke up, they were singing and singing, as if they were seeing who could most. One of them came in the window, and he sat on my toe, and he was yellow. Then I said, 'Boo!' and then he flew away just as hard as he could fly. Do you have that bird?"
"Yes," said the man. "That is my Cousin Goldfinch. I'm sorry you frightened him away, Snow-white. If you had kept quiet, he would have sung you a pretty song. He isn't used to having people say 'Boo!' to him. He comes in every morning to see me, and sing me his best song."
"Are they all your birds?" queried the child. "Aren't you ever going to tell me how many you have? I don't think you are very polite. Miss Tyler says it's horrid rude not to answer questions."
"Miss Tyler is not here!" said the man, gravely. "I thought you said we were not to talk about her."
"So I did!" cried the child. "I say hurrah she isn't here, dwarf. Do you say it, too?"
"Hurrah!" said the man, fervently. "Now come, Snow-white, and I'll show you how many birds I have."
"Before we wash the dishes? Isn't that horrid?"
"No, not at all horrid. Wait, and you'll see."