"What an idea!" said Winny.
It was an idea, he said, if it was nothing else. At any rate, it was his idea. And Winny wanted to know what made him have it.
"Oh, I dunno. There are things a fellow wants he hasn't got."
"What sort of things?"
"All sorts."
"Well—don't think about them. Think," said Winny, "of the things you have got."
"What things?"
"Why," said Winny, counting them off on her fingers, "you've got a father—and a mother—and new tires to your bike. Good boots" (she had stuck buttercups in their laces) "and a most beautiful purple tie." (She held another buttercup under his chin.)
"It is a tidy tie," Ranny admitted, smiling because of the buttercups. "But me hat's a bit rocky."
"Quite a good hat," said Winny, looking at it with her little head on one side. "And you've won the silver cup for the Wandsworth Hurdle Race. What more do you want?"