But what's the use of it when you've got it?" "What's the use of a fox
when oo've got it?" said Bruno. "I know oo big things hunt foxes."
I tried to think of some good reason why "big things" should hunt
foxes, and he should not hunt snails, but none came into my head: so I
said at last, "Well, I suppose one's as good as the other.
I'll go snail-hunting myself some day."
"I should think oo wouldn't be so silly," said Bruno,
"as to go snail-hunting by oor-self. Why, oo'd never get the snail along,
if oo hadn't somebody to hold on to his other horn!"
"Of course I sha'n't go alone," I said, quite gravely. "By the way, is
that the best kind to hunt, or do you recommend the ones without shells?"
"Oh, no, we never hunt the ones without shells," Bruno said, with a
little shudder at the thought of it. "They're always so cross about it;
and then, if oo tumbles over them, they're ever so sticky!"
By this time we had nearly finished the garden. I had fetched some
violets, and Bruno was just helping me to put in the last, when he
suddenly stopped and said "I'm tired."
"Rest then," I said: "I can go on without you, quite well."
Bruno needed no second invitation: he at once began arranging the dead
mouse as a kind of sofa. "And I'll sing oo a little song," he said, as
he rolled it about.
"Do," said I: "I like songs very much."
"Which song will oo choose?" Bruno said, as he dragged the mouse into a
place where he could get a good view of me.
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