Lamb, and the Lamb had scratched like a cat and bellowed like a bull!
"We've got to _make friends_ with him! I can't carry him home screaming
like that. Fancy having to make friends with our own baby!--it's too
silly."

That, however, was exactly what they had to do. It took over an hour,
and the task was not rendered any easier by the fact that the Lamb was
by this time as hungry as a lion and as thirsty as a desert.

At last he consented to allow these strangers to carry him home by
turns, but as he refused to hold on to such new acquaintances he was a
dead weight, and most exhausting.

"Thank goodness, we're home!" said Jane, staggering through the iron
gate to where Martha, the nursemaid, stood at the front door shading her
eyes with her hand and looking out anxiously. "Here! Do take Baby!"

Martha snatched the Baby from her arms.

"Thanks be, _he's_ safe back," she said. "Where are the others, and
whoever to goodness gracious are all of you?"

"We're _us_, of course," said Robert.

"And who's Us, when you're at home?" asked Martha scornfully.

"I tell you it's _us_, only we're beautiful as the day," said Cyril.
"I'm Cyril, and these are the others, and we're jolly hungry. Let us in,
and don't be a silly idiot."