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"But in Shropshire, they tell me, they are having trouble with the mangel-wurzels." The prince frowned at this typical piece of shifty Russian diplomacy. "How is your Highness getting on with your Highness's roller-skating?" he enquired guardedly. The Russian smiled a subtle smile. "Poorly," he said, "poorly. The last time I tried the outside edge I thought somebody had thrown the building at me."
Either the pheasants were preying on the mangel-wurzels or the mangel-wurzels were preying on the pheasants. At any rate it had something to do with the Land Bill practically everything that happens in England has something to do with the Land Bill and Lloyd George was in a free state of perspiration over it; and the papers were full of it and altogether there was a great pother over it.
He was reminded for a minute of that chalk pit near Madingley, whose ramparts excluded the familiar world. Agnes was here, as she had once been there. She stood on the farther barrier, waiting to receive them when they had traversed the heart of the camp. "Admire my mangel-wurzels," said Mrs. Failing. "They are said to grow so splendidly on account of the dead soldiers. Isn't it a sweet thought?
She did not know that it was a mother rat with young ones outside squeaking faintly in the stack of mangel-wurzels; she did not know, as it hopped round and round, that its beady eyes were glittering with a great agony, and that the Mother of all was powerless to break down a mere wire or two and save it. Presently, worn and weary, Joan trudged home again, with no very happy mind.
Inevitably, it was spotted here and there with smart topical hits of the early years of the century; but that, they said, would be all right. They could freshen it up in a couple of evenings; it was simply a matter of deleting allusions to pro-Boers and substituting lines about Marconi shares and mangel-wurzels. "It'll be all right," they assured Roland; "this is real revue."
"I'm not honest, and I'm not a Root-gatherer just now," said Harry, when he had got breath after setting down his load. He spoke shyly and a little surlily, like Chris when he is in mischief. "Harry, what's that?" "It's a sack I borrowed from Michael. It won't hurt it, it's had mangel-wurzels in already." "What have you got in it now? It looks dreadfully heavy."
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