“Yes,” said Desmond, “we brought as many as our pockets will hold, and we will hand them over to Peter directly, but I want to give Billy some first, as he is especially fond of eggs; he will value them the more if he thinks that nobody else has them.”
Saying this, he handed them to Peter to put them under the ashes.
“There,” he exclaimed when Billy appeared, “we know how you like eggs, and so we brought a couple, and whenever we go out again we will try and find some more.”
Billy watched the eggs eagerly, until Peter declared that they were sufficiently cooked.
“Doctor, won’t you have one?” asked Billy, politely, when Peter handed them to him.
“No, thank you,” answered the doctor; “I am content with this stew.”
Billy very reluctantly felt himself called upon to offer an egg to Tom and Desmond; but they both declined.
“Then I suppose I must eat them myself,” said Billy, beginning to break the shell. He went on until the operation was performed, when he clapped the end into his mouth.
“Horrible!” he exclaimed, spitting the contents out. “If I haven’t bitten off a bird’s head!”
“Try the other, Billy,” said Desmond; “that may not be so mature.”