Cissy. “Don’t say doocid. Its a naughty word, Popham!”
Pop. “I will say doocid. Doo-oo-oocid! There! And I’ll say worse words too, if I please, and you hold your tongue. What’s there for tea? jam for tea? strawberries for tea? muffins for tea? That’s it: strawberries and muffins for tea! And we’ll go into dessert besides: that’s prime. I say, Miss Prior?”
Miss Prior. “What do you say, Popham?”
Pop. “Shouldn’t you like to go into dessert?—there’s lots of good things there,—and have wine? Only when grandmamma tells her story about—about my grandfather and King George the what-d’ye-call-’em: King George the Fourth——”
Cis. “Ascended the throne 1820; died at Windsor 1830.”
Pop. “Bother Windsor! Well, when she tells that story, I can tell you that ain’t very good fun.”
Cis. “And it’s rude of you to speak in that way of your grandmamma, Pop!”
Pop. “And you’ll hold your tongue, Miss! And I shall speak as I like. And I’m a man, and I don’t want any of your stuff and nonsense. I say, Mary, give us the marmalade!”
Cis. “You have had plenty to eat, and boys oughtn’t to have so much.”
Pop. “Boys may have what they like. Boys can eat twice as much as women. There, I don’t want any more. Anybody may have the rest.”