"It isn't Easter," squealed Dovey delightedly.
"No," said Dallas, "but John and Margie know that I love them."
"They're deliciouth," lisped little Big Wig, whereupon Dallas promptly gave him one.
Two of the others he shared with the bigger children, then he put the box under his arm.
He had scarcely tasted them himself, and I knew by his look that he was going to share these other three with someone who did not get as many dainties as these children. He was a most generous lad.
I saw his glance go toward the kitchen, then the lake. Ah! that meant Bingi and Bolshy—but the third one. Perhaps he would keep that for himself. I hoped he would and I followed him as he sauntered slowly toward the log cabin.
Arrived there he stared up at the wheat mow. Ah! I might have known. That third egg was for his Cousin Cassowary, who had been so kind in explaining things about the farm to him. She had a cache in the straw where she put things she did not wish her sister and brothers to see, and one day in a moment of confidence she had shown it to Dallas.
The lad went cautiously up the ladder. I knew he was going to lay the egg among Cassowary's treasures. What a joyful surprise she would get when she found it, for it was a nice large egg just stuffed with the rich cream that I like myself.
Alas! She discovered him in the act. Her grandmother had sent her some nuts and she was coming in her swift stealthy way to hide them.
She saw me standing by the ladder and heard the tell-tale rustling above. Then like a flash she was up on the mow, and had my poor young master by the collar.