"Why not give a baby-party?" inquired Smith, blandly.
"A—a baby-party!" repeated Baron Bummelzug vacantly, in English; "what perhaps iss it a baby-party?"
Thusis, serving me, bent over and whispered in my ear: "Not the sort of baby-parties they gave in Belgium; there are no babies." And she moved serenely to serve the queen, her beautiful face placid and inscrutable.
The Princess Pudelstoff began to clap her pudgy hands excitedly:
"A baby-party! A baby-party! That'll be fun! That'll be great! And we'll have a feed and a spiel——"
"Ach wass!" shouted the Admiral exasperated. "Tell us once what it iss a baby-party, und stop your noises yet!"
But the excited Princess had become uncontrollable, and she began to hammer on the table with her fat fists, shouting:
"A feed and a spiel! For God's sake somebody start something in this hellofa hole!"
Amid her clamor and the ominous roaring of the infuriated Admiral, I tinkled my goblet with my fork and presently secured comparative silence for Smith.
In a few pleasant phrases he explained to them the simple intricacies of the American baby-party.