“They’re like slugs turned to stone,” said Jan. “There can’t be good eating in such as them.”
“We shall see. Crack them, Noah.”
This was easier ordered than done.
Flood compressed two nuts in his palm, but could not crush them. He tried his teeth, and they failed. He put a nut under his heel, but in the throng was thrust aside and lost his nut.
“I’ll do it presently, Rose, as soon as I can find something hard on which to crack ’em.”
“Do, Noah. I’m longing to eat them. I wouldn’t give a straw for them dried, shrivelled hazel cobs.”
“I promise you I’ll break ’em--the first occasion.” Then, suddenly, “Rose! Kate! Jan! Come along this way; there is a man here with a dancing bear.”
“A bear? Oh, I do want to see a bear!” exclaimed Kate eagerly.
“I don’t care for a bear,” said Rose.
“But he’s dancing--beautiful,” urged Noah.