he Hind stepped back very
gently, and said: "Quite safe now. Good-day, mistress. Take care of
the poults."

"Bless your kind heart, and good-day to your ladyship," answered the
Greyhen. "I have six poults yet, I'm sure 'tis six now, and that's a
many to wash and tend and feed; but when they'm grown you may depend
they shall always help your ladyship, if I can teach them. Good-day,
my lady, and thank you, and may you have good luck with your blessed
little son."

Now all this time you may be sure that the Hind had kept a constant
eye towards the spot where her Calf was lying, the more so since she
could see Aunt Yeld peering through the grass at him. So she went
straight back to kiss him as soon as the Greyhen was gone, lest Aunt
Yeld's grey face might have frightened him; but he wasn't frightened
at her in the least. And Aunt Yeld for two whole steps quite forgot to
walk like a stag, and said, "I must do you the justice to observe,
Tawny, that he is a very handsome little fellow." Then she turned
away, blowing out her lips to show her tushes and putting on the
stag's gait as nearly as she could, and made a vicious bite at a
little blade of grass, as she had seen Stags bite at a turnip; which
did not become her pretty neck (for Hinds are always pretty, however
old) half as much as the graceful nibble which was natural to her. But
it was all make-believe, and if she had spoken her heart she would
have said: "I think that your Calf is the greatest darling I ever saw,
and oh, how I wish I were you!"

Then Aunt Yeld turned round and said: "Now you two mustn't think of
going. You are not fit to take care of yourselves, so you must stay
with me, and I'll take care of you." You see she had quite forgotten
what she said at first, for she had really a kind heart, though
nothing could keep her from patronising every one.

So for many days they lived together, and Aunt Yeld always posted
herself up wind of them to keep watch over them; and if our soldiers
in their red coats were sentries half as good as she, they would be
the best in the world. Now and again, though very seldom, the great
Stag would join them and lie by them all day, chewing the cud and
shaking his great head, which grew bigger every day. But he never
uttered a word, unless it was to say, "Very good that growing wheat
was this morning, to be sure," to which the Hind would answer, "I am
so glad, dearest;" or it would be, "The turnips on Yarner farm are
not com