The widow broke into a wailing. The lamb would die without the dog and she was a lonely creature. Couldn't they spare her one animal out of their abundance?
Big Wig who was the only one not embarrassed said simply to Barklo, "Doth you want to sthay here?"
"Oh! no, no," barked the Airedale, "I'm dying of homesickness. This woman is a fat old fuss. She doesn't know how to take care of animals—Constancy, get off that sofa and run to my lovely home with me."
Constancy promptly did as she was bid, and the widow began to mourn. "You're all going to leave me. I won't stay here alone. I'll put on my bunnit and go along with you—Constancy, I'm ashamed of you."
The lamb who was just following the dog out the doorway turned round. "Ba-a-a, I'm tired of you. I hate this sofa and those stuffed animals and your grass made me sick. I want a change of diet and to live with my own kind."
"Mrs. Detover," said Dovey, "come and call on Mother. She is a great one to straighten things out."
The widow nodded, then as she came to the window to pull down the blind she said, "Why, drat that pony—he's on my lilies of the valley. Shoo! Pony."
I wasn't on her lilies, but I ran on beside Barklo and Constancy who were talking to each other in low voices.
"Don't go back," said the dog. "She'll kill you. She means well but she's one of those persons who should never have an animal to bring up—Hello! Pony, I've heard of you. What do you think of that old woman?"
"I agree with Big Wig," I said drily.