Beasts and Super-Beasts | Page 7

said
Matilda. "I'm staying with my aunt, and I was told I must behave
particularly well to-day, as lots of people were coming for a garden
party, and I was told to imitate Claude, that's my young cousin, who

never does anything wrong except by accident, and then is always
apologetic about it. It seems they thought I ate too much raspberry trifle
at lunch, and they said Claude never eats too much raspberry trifle.
Well, Claude always goes to sleep for half an hour after lunch, because
he's told to, and I waited till he was asleep, and tied his hands and
started forcible feeding with a whole bucketful of raspberry trifle 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.
"Dressed as we are we could hardly do that," said Mrs. Stossen; it was

difficult to imagine her doing it in any costume.
"Do you think you could go and get some one who would drive the pig
away?" asked Miss Stossen.
"I promised my aunt I would stay here till five o'clock; it's not four
yet."
"I am sure, under the circumstances, your aunt would permit--"
"My conscience would not permit," said Matilda with cold dignity.
"We can't stay here till five o'clock," exclaimed Mrs. Stossen with
growing exasperation.
"Shall I recite to you to make the time pass quicker?" asked Matilda
obligingly. "'Belinda, the little Breadwinner,' is considered my best
piece, or, perhaps, it ought to be something in French. Henri Quatre's
address to his soldiers is the only thing I really know in that language."
"If you will go and fetch some one to drive that animal away I will give
you something to buy yourself a nice present," said Mrs. Stossen.
Matilda came several inches lower down the medlar tree.
"That is the most practical suggestion you have made yet for getting out
of the garden," she remarked cheerfully; "Claude and I are collecting
money for the Children's Fresh Air Fund, and we are seeing which of
us can collect the biggest sum."
"I shall be very glad to contribute half a crown, very glad indeed," said
Mrs. Stossen, digging that coin out of the depths of a receptacle which
formed a detached outwork of her toilet.
"Claude is a long way ahead of me at present," continued Matilda,
taking no notice of the suggested offering; "you see, he's only eleven,
and has golden hair, and those are enormous advantages when you're
on the collecting job. Only the other day a Russian lady gave him ten
shillings. Russians understand the art of giving far better than we do. I

expect Claude will net quite twenty-five shillings this afternoon; he'll
have the field to himself, and he'll be able to do the pale, fragile,
not-long-for-this-world business to perfection after his raspberry trifle
experience. Yes, he'll be quite two pounds ahead of me by now."
With much probing and plucking and many regretful murmurs the
beleaguered ladies managed to produce seven-and-sixpence between
them.
"I am afraid this is all we've got," said Mrs. Stossen.
Matilda showed no sign of coming down either to the earth or to their
figure.
"I could not do violence to my conscience for anything less than ten
shillings," she announced stiffly.
Mother and daughter muttered