Scrambled eggs

I

Eustace was a thorough gentleman. There was candor in his quack, and affability in his waddle; and underneath his snowy down beat a pure and sympathetic heart. In short, he was a most exemplary duck.

Or rather, to be more correct, a drake: for he was a husband, and the proud father of several eggs.

He admired his wife tremendously. "Gertrude," he said to her one day, as he squatted beside the nest in his burdock home, "you are certainly a wonderful female to have laid those eggs. I can't tell you how I respect you for what you have done."

"That's all very well," she replied, preening herself coolly, "but I notice you never offer to sit on them."

"That's all very well," she replied, preening, "but I notice you never offer to sit on them."