Don't, Cyril, don't," exclaimed the aunt, as the small boy began smacking the cushions of the seat, producing a cloud of dust at each blow.
“Come and look out of the window," she added.The child moved reluctantly to the window.
"Why are those sheep being driven out of that field?" he asked."I expect they are being driven to another field where there is more grass," said the aunt weakly."But there is lots of grass in that field," protested the boy; "there's nothing else but grass there. Aunt, there's lots of grass in that field."