“It’s almost like being grand ourselves, just to be able to watch
them,” said Meg and Peg and Kilmanskeg, squeezing together and
flattening their noses against the attic windows.
They could see bits of the sumptuous white and gold drawing-room
with the Duchess sitting reading near the fire, her golden glasses
upon her nose, and Lady Gwendolen playing haughtily upon the harp,
and Lady Muriel coldly listening to her. Lady Doris was having her
golden hair dressed by her maid in her bed-room and Lord Hubert was
reading the newspaper with a high-bred air, while Lord Francis was
writing letters to noblemen of his acquaintance, and Lord Rupert
was--in an aristocratic manner--glancing over his love letters from
ladies of title.
[Transcriber’s Note: See picture duchess.jpg]
Kilmanskeg and Peter Piper just pinched each other with glee and
squealed with delight.
“Isn’t it fun,” said Peter Piper. “I say; aren’t they awful swells!
But Lord Francis can’t kick about in his trousers as I can in mine,
and neither can the others. I’ll like to see them try to do this,”--
and he turned three summersaults in the middle of the room and
stood on his head on the biggest hole in the carpet--and wiggled
his legs and wiggled his toes at them until they shouted so with
laughing that Ridiklis ran in with a saucepan in her hand and
perspiration on her forehead, because she was cooking turnips,
which was all they had for dinner.
“You mustn’t laugh so loud,” she cried out. “If we make so much
noise the Tidy Castle people will begin to complain of this being a
low neighborhood and they might insist on moving away.”
“Oh! scrump!” said Peter Piper, who sometimes invented doll slang--
though there wasn’t really a bit of harm in him. “I wouldn’t have
them move away for anything. They are meat and drink to me.”
“They are going to have a dinner of ten courses,” sighed Ridiklis,
“I can see them cooking it from my scullery window. And I have
nothing but turnips to give you.”
“Who cares!” said Peter Piper, “Let’s have ten courses of turnips
and pretend each course is exactly like the one they are having at
the Castle.”
“I like turnips almost better than anything--almost--perhaps not
quite,” said Gustibus. “I can eat ten courses of turnips like a
shot.”
“Let’s go and find out what their courses are,” said Meg and Peg
and Kilmanskeg, “and then we will write a menu on a piece of pink
tissue paper.”
[Transcriber’s Note: See picture peter_piper.jpg]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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