Come, my child, I said, trying to lead her away. Wish good-bye to the poor hare, and come and look for blackberries.Good-bye, poor hare! Sylvie obediently repeated, looking over her shoulder at it as...
When I need somebeast to tell me m'name I'll jolly well ask m'self. Pish tush! The very idea, tellin' a chap his own moniker!