“Good grief!” exclaimed Jud.
Twaddles seemed glued to one spot and the basket crashed down almost under his nose. The 168 eggs broke and some splashed up and sprayed him, but most of the contents ran out on the floor in a bright yellow stream.
“You took eggs!” Meg said accusingly.
“Well, nobody said not to,” answered Dot in a rather frightened voice, peering over the edge of the loft.
“All right, I’ll say it now,” Jud proclaimed. “After this, it is against the rules to put anything in the basket which will break. Remember that. And now, let me see if I can wipe you off, Twaddles.”
Jud found a cloth and mopped the egg off Twaddles––fortunately not much had reached him––and then Dot suggested that they do something else.
“We could eat,” Twaddles said placidly, which made Jud laugh.
“I’m going to start feeding the stock, so perhaps it isn’t too early for you to have lunch,” he said. “That is one sure way to keep the twins quiet, Meg.”
Dot called after him that she hadn’t said anything about eating, but Jud didn’t hear her. He 169 was already measuring out corn for the horses.
“Where is the lunch?” asked Bobby, who began to feel hungry himself.