“No.”
“He just said ‘How de do’ to me as I came through the wood. And I saw old Sergeant Hedgehog taking a nap under a tuft of grass.”
“I don’t like old Hedgehog. I don’t like prickly people, do you, daddy?”
“Not much.”
“Like Miss Nickleton. She might be a pin-cushion. She’s always taking out pins, and putting you all tidy.”
“Now then, we’ve got to be very serious. What’s the supper to be to-night?”
“Baked potatoes and tea.”
“By Jove, they’ll get fat.”
Canterton set her down and threw himself into the business with an immense seriousness that made him the most convincing of playfellows. He took off his coat, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and looked critically at the fire.
“We want some more wood, daddy.”