“Perhaps not,” said the Professor.
It was again luncheon-time, and Pip, Tom, and Bob were in the dining-room, where nurse Charlotte, seated at the head of the table, was already pouring herself out a cup of tea. She had cut bread and butter for the children, filled their tumblers with milk, and was ready, when they should be ready, to help them to the apple-and-sago pudding—“just the nithest pudding in the world,” as merry little Pip used to say every time it came on table.
All the children were there but the Professor; the others did not know where he was. Pip was the first one to see him coming across the lawn.
“How queer!” said Pip. “He’th all mud, and what hath he got in hith hand?”
“It’s a turtle,” says Tom.
“It’th a bird,” says Pip.
“Perhaps it’s a turtle-dove,” says nurse.
“Should say ’t was a mud-turtle by the looks of his legs,” said Bob.
“Nurth, do turtle-doves live in the mud?” said Pip.