But I don't mind, Jack, if you want them for
your very own. I'll give up my share,"--and he sighed.
"I never saw such a good chap as you are, Jem. But it's not that. I
thought we might give them to Mrs. Wood. It was so beastly about those
disgusting walnuts."
"I can't touch walnut pickle now," said Jem, feelingly.
"It'd be a very handsome present," said I.
"They took a prize at the Agricultural," said Jem.
"I know she likes eggs. She beats 'em into a froth and feeds Charlie
with 'em," said I.
"I think I could eat walnut pickle again if I knew she had the bantams,"
sighed Jem, who was really devoted to the little cock-major and the
auburn-feathered hens.
"We'll take 'em this afternoon," I said.
We did so--in a basket, Eshcol-grape wise, like the walnuts. When we
told Mother, she made no objection. She would have given her own head
off her shoulders if, by ill-luck, any passer-by had thought of asking
for it. Besides, it solved the difficulty of the objectionable names.
Mrs. Wood was very loth to take our bantams, but of course Jem and I
were not going to recall a gift, so she took them at last, and I think
she was very much pleased with them.
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