When she came out, the sandy whiskered gentleman was sitting on a log
reading the newspaper--at least he had it spread out, but he was looking
over the top of it.

He was so polite, that he seemed almost sorry to let Jemima go home for
the night. He promised to take great care of her nest until she came back
again next day.

He said he loved eggs and ducklings; he should be proud to see a fine
nestful in his wood-shed.

[Illustration]

Jemima Puddle-duck came every afternoon; she laid nine eggs in the nest.
They were greeny white and very large. The foxy gentleman admired them
immensely. He used to turn them over and count them when Jemima was not
there.

At last Jemima told him that she intended to begin to sit next day--"and I
will bring a bag of corn with me, so that I need never leave my nest until
the eggs are hatched. They might catch cold," said the conscientious
Jemima.

[Illustration]

"Madam, I beg you not to trouble yourself with a bag; I will provide oats.
But before you commence your tedious sitting, I intend to give you a
treat. Let us have a dinner-party all to ourselves!

"May I ask you to bring up some herbs from the farm-garden to make a