crooking it, chased him out; Holland called her a dirty name. He chuckled wryly. “And she says she’s going to tell Father—how about that.” He tossed an amused look over his shoulder, down to the meadow where Mr. Angelini was haying. “But what about the cattails?” Niles persisted, his mind on the Winter Kingdom. “You said it was a good idea.” “It’s good,” Holland said laconically. “But—” He cocked an ear. From down in the hayloft came the cry of Russell Perry at play. Eee-yaiee! I’m the King of the Mountain! “How do we sneak cattails in with him jumping around down there? If he sees us—”
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