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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Ah!" said Mrs Flutethroat, "I wish I was behind you, I'd make you say `Peedle-wee-weedle weedle-wee-peedle, as you call it. I'd soon He after you, only it is so dark, and all my egg's would grow cold.
"Well, I suppose you are right," said Mrs Flutethroat; "but I must not stay here gossiping, for I have no end of work to do this morning."
As to Spottleover, he, too, was out of temper all the rest of the day, and when Flutethroat met him in the afternoon he found his neighbour all smeared with clay, and looking for all the world like a clay-dabbing plasterer as he was.
"But you must stop it," said his wife, getting so cross that Flutethroat was obliged to say "Very well," and go slowly towards the fir-tree, where the tiny birds were sitting in a row, and when he got up to them there they were tired out and fast asleep; the last one awake having dropped off just as he was half through saying "weedle," and as he was going to hop over his neighbours' backs to get in the middle.
Here, Flutethroat, wake up, do," she cried to her partner, who was sitting upon a neighbouring bough with his feathers erect all over him, and his head turned right under and quite out of sight. "Wake up, wake up, do," she cried again, trying to shake the boughs.
The great flap-winged bird immediately took flight, and then, with a dash of its wings, away went the falcon, leaving Mrs Flutethroat shivering with fear.
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