"Mary is crying," and though Mrs Coo repeated--
"No!" she knew by the way he held his head on one side and looked at
her, that he was very much in earnest indeed.
I must tell you that when Mrs Coo said `no,' it went off into a soft
sound that was almost like `coo'; indeed most of her talking, and of Mr
Coo's too, sounded like that, which is the reason, I daresay, that many
people would not have understood their conversation. But it would be
rather tiresome to write "no," or other words, with double o's at the
end, so I will leave it to be fancied, which will do just as well.
There is a great deal of conversation in the world which careless people
don't understand; a great deal which _no one_ can understand properly,
however much they try; but also a great deal that one _can_ get to
understand, if one tries, even without the gift which the dear fairy
bestowed on the very lucky prince in the long ago story. I forget his
name, but I daresay some of you remember it. The gift was the power to
understand all that the beasts and birds say.
This very morning the wind has been talking to me a good deal--it was
the south wind, and her stories are always very sweet, though sometimes
sad, yet I understand a good deal of them.
After this second "No," Mr and Mrs Coo sat looking at each other for a
moment or two, without speaking.