that they were keeping for the garden-party. Lots of it went on to his
sailor-suit and some of it on to the bed, but a good deal went down
Claude's throat, and they can't say again that he has never been known to
eat too much raspberry trifle. That is why I am not allowed to go to the
party, and as an additional punishment I must speak French all the
afternoon. I've had to tell you all this in English, as there were words
like 'forcible feeding' that I didn't know the French for; of course I
could have invented them, but if I had said _nourriture obligatoire_ you
wouldn't have had the least idea what I was talking about. _Mais
maintenant, nous parlons francais_."

"Oh, very well, _tres bien_," said Mrs. Stossen reluctantly; in moments
of flurry such French as she knew was not under very good control. "_La,
a l'autre cote de la porte, est un cochon_--"

"_Un cochon? Ah, le petit charmant_!" exclaimed Matilda with enthusiasm.

"_Mais non, pas du tout petit, et pas du tout charmant; un bete feroce_--"

"_Une bete_," corrected Matilda; "a pig is masculine as long as you call
it a pig, but if you lose your temper with it and call it a ferocious
beast it becomes one of us at once. French is a dreadfully unsexing
language."

"For goodness' sake let us talk English then," said Mrs. Stossen. "Is
there any way out of this garden except through the paddock where the pig
is?"

"I always go over the wall, by way of the plum tree," said Matilda.