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Updated: May 3, 2025
And how old may you be, my little love?" "I is five," answered Diana. "I's a well-grown girl, isn't I?" "That you are, missy, and hungry, too, I guess. You shall have some beautiful hare soup." "I don't want hare soup," answered Diana; "I want what that woman pwomised stwawberries and k'eam, and milk and cake and then, perhaps, a little soup. I don't want soup to begin."
Yes, they'll be shotted, and they'll have a public funeral, and after that we'll have a lovely time. Uncle William isn't half bad, and 'stead of doing howid lessons every morning we'll just go into the garding and eat stwawberries and cherries, and he'll play with us. He'll love to, for he don't like writing sermins a bit, and we'll blindfold him and he'll wun after us.
At last the children had finished the contents of their bowls, and rose solemnly to their feet. "Now," said Diana, going up to Mother Bridget, "I are vedy obliged to you; you has been kind; you has gived us good supper. We'll 'scuse 'bout the stwawberries and k'eam and the milk and cake, 'cos you didn't know that the other big woman told lots of lies. And now, p'ease, we are going home.
"I aint going to keep you," said the woman; "only, p'r'aps, if you two are so hungry, p'r'aps I could give you a bit of supper." "Oh, yes, Diana! Do let her," said Orion. "What sort of supper?" asked Diana, who never allowed herself to be taken unawares. "Would it be stwawberries and k'eam, or would it be cake and milk?"
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