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He mused, and young Caddles and his own child and Cossar's brood mingled
in his musing.
He laughed abruptly. "Good Lord!" he said at some passing thought.
He roused himself presently and addressed Mrs. Skinner. "Anyhow he
mustn't be tortured by a break in his food. That at least we can
prevent. I shall send you a can every six months. That ought to do for
him all right."
Mrs. Skinner mumbled something about "if you think so, Sir," and
"probably got packed by mistake.... Thought no harm in giving him a
little," and so by the aid of various aspen gestures indicated that she
understood.
So the child went on growing.
And growing.
"Practically," said Lady Wondershoot, "he's eaten up every calf in the
place. If I have any more of this sort of thing from that man Caddles--"
VII.
202
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