"A hungry lion," said Alexander Fish. "I wish we had got some fish for the people to cook. That's fun. I tell you, Ransom, it's fun to see the work they make with it."
"Fish is no count, I think," said Ransom. "Its only good to catch. I can stand a lobster salad, though. But I can't stand long without something. What's the use of waiting? They aren't coming back yonder till night. They haven't stirred yet."
Ransom's eyes indicated the party on the island. And acting upon his announced opinion, Ransom paid his respects in a practical form, not to cold chicken and bread, but to a dish of cream cakes which stood conveniently near. And having eaten one, in three mouthfuls, he stretched out his hand, and took another. Happily then, some meringues attracted his attention; and he stood with a cream cake in one hand, and a meringue in the other, taking them alternately, or both together. The meringues began to disappear fast. Daisy warned him that the only dish of those delicacies in all the entertainment was the one into which he was making such inroads. Ransom paid her no heed, and helped himself to another.
"Ransom, that is not fair," said his sister. "There are no more but those, and you will have them all gone. Just look, now, how the dish looks!"
"How the dish looks!" said Ransom, mockingly. "None of your business."
"It is not right. Don't, Ransom!" Daisy said, as his hand was extended for a fourth meringue.
"Want 'em for yourself?" said Ransom, sneeringly. "I say, Alexander here's a game! Here's something just fit for a man's luncheon in a summer day something nice and light and nourishing. Here's a lark pie I know what it is, for I saw Joanna making it. Now we'll have this and be off."
"You must not, Ransom," Daisy urged, anxiously.
But Ransom seized the pie from its place, and proceeded to cut into it, seeing that nobody was near to hinder him.
"Ransom, you ought not to do it," pleaded Daisy. "You ought to wait your turn. You are worse than Fido."