"How horrid of him!" cried Elsie.
There were four little rooks in the nest, and when they saw Elsie they all began to laugh in the rudest possible way.
"What is it?" asked one of them.
"Where did you pick it up, father?" inquired a second.
"She's moulting!" exclaimed a third.
"Smart, aren't they?" said the rook admiringly, turning to Elsie.
"One can see they're your children," retorted Elsie, "because they've got such bad manners; and now, if you don't mind, I think I ought to be getting back. It must be nearly tea-time."
"Getting back where?" asked the rook.
"Why, home, of course," answered Elsie.
The rook shook his head.