who carried a long iris leaf to represent a knife, advanced to make the inspection.
Di thrust her fingers into Faith’s cheeks, examined her tongue to see if it would “pay for salting,” pinched her arms, and finally agreed with the cook that she must be cooped up and fattened.
“She shall be fed up on snail soup and luscious slimy slugs,” said the ogre—Andrew was always good at acting,—whilst Di added:
“Tadpole tea is even more nourishing than Bovril, and I’ve seen many skeletons grow stout on caterpillars in oil.”
“See that she has them then,” said the ogre, in a voice that sounded like thunder, “but for our immediate food, my dear wife, we must catch some smaller fry.”
“Yes,” replied the ‘dear wife,’ “one of those little dears yonder, if nicely stuffed and roasted, would make a tasty morsel for supper. Suppose we order that little girl with the cloud of golden hair, which, by the way, would make quite a pretty table garnish.”
Diana’s tone was so business-like that Marygold almost shook in her shoes.
“Or that tender youth crouching beside that ash,” said the ogre, pointing to Gaston, “he’d make a toothsome savoury. Ah!” catching sight of Hubert, who peeped out from the edge of a nettle-bed, “there’s a pair of those small boys, I see. Jack, my caterer, catch them at once, and have them served for supper as grilled green goslings.”
“Certainly, sir,” said Jack, “they’ll make delicious mouthfuls for your greedy-ship and lady. Now, if you will withdraw, and pretend to sleep, I will proceed to secure these desirable young dishfuls.”