I. Thank you. What lovely plum-cake!
She (with infinite scorn). Ho! that isn't plum-cake. There isn't any plums in it. It's choclat cake.
I (humiliated). Oh, well, I don't think I will have any more tea, thank you.
She (coldly). I'm going to give my lamb tea now.
[The method of giving tea to a lamb, in case it is not generally known, is to plaster the lamb's nose with spoonfuls of sugar and then lick off the sugar with one's tongue. At least that is the way Priscilla does it.]
I (reprovingly from the breakfast-table.) What a funny way to give your lamb tea, Priscilla.
She. My lamb says he likes having his tea like this. (A longish pause.) Please will you draw me a picsher?
I. What kind of a picture?
She. A picsher of a house.
I. What kind of a house?