An old deaf gander to whom he was obliged to repeat the story three times, offered the sage comment:
"Indeed! I suppose this may complicate our foreign relations. But I am too old and too much of a philosopher to allow myself to be disturbed by it. Those fowls whose duty it is to attend to such matters will no doubt do so. For myself,"—(he paused in contemplation of an unwarily-ambient bug)—"for myself, I have learned to take things as they come."
Saying which, the philosopher reached out solemnly and consumed the erring one.
Martha, unable to appear because of her confinement, clucked virtuously from within the coop:
"Well, I'm glad to say I've never bothered my head over things that don't concern me!"
Clarence took the matter more seriously.
"Man broil it!" he swore. "This may spoil my chief place of assignation!"
But the attitude of the community as a whole was voiced by the Guinea fowls, who said:
"How intensely interesting! We'd love to have you tell us more about it. But the dinner pan has just sounded, so we can't stay. Awfully sorry."
And so Eustace found himself a second Cassandra.