164 Bob Robinson’s Baby

currants may be said to form a kind of
currancy.”

“He! he!” said the rook.

“JT fail to perceive the subject of your
merriment,” said B. Robinson stiffly. “Ah
—allow me to offer you a small supply of
grubs to take home to Mrs. Rook who,
I trust, is well? Erthupp!”

“Sir?” said the gardener, with a grin.

“Do not grin when I address you,” said
B. Robinson. ‘Give my friend Mr. Rook
a punnet of grubs.”