"In conversation," said somebody (I think it was my grandfather), "there should always be a give and take. The ball must be kept rolling." If he had ever had a niece two years old, I don't think he would have bothered.
"What's 'at?" said Margery, pointing suddenly.
"That," I said, stroking it, "is dear uncle's nose."
"What's 'at?"
"Take your finger away. Ah, yes, that is dear uncle's eye. The left one."
"Dear uncle's left one," said Margery thoughtfully. "What's it doing?"
"Thinking."
"What's finking?"
"What dear uncle does every afternoon after lunch."
"What's lunch?"