_Pamela_ (_in a cheerful sing-song_). A for Donkey; B for Dicky.
_Pamela_ (_examining the illustration more closely_). All ugly black, bissect for his blue mouf.
_Her Mother_ (_instructively_). Not blue; yellow. And it's a beak, not a mouth.
_Pamela._ I calls it a mouf. He's eating wiv it. (_With increasing disfavour_) A poor little worm he's eating. Don't like him; he's crool. (_She turns the page hurriedly and continues_) C for Pussy; D for Mick.
[_This is the name of the family mongrel. That the picture represents an absolutely thoroughbred collie matters nothing to_ Pamela. _She spends some time in admiring_ Mick, _then rapidly sweeps over certain illustrations that fail to attract._
_Pamela_ (_stopping at the sight of a web-footed fowl, triumphantly_). G for Quack-quack.
_Her Father._ Oh, come, Pamela, that's not a quack-quack; that's a goose. It makes quite a different noise.
[_Anticipating an immediate demand for a goose's noise he clears his throat nervously._
_Pamela_ (_with authority_). This one isn't making any noise. It's jus' thinking. (_Her father accepts the correction and swallows again._) H for Gee-gee. Stupid gee-gee.
_Her Father_ (_glancing at the tail, which bears some resemblance to an osprey's feather_). You're right; it does.
_Her Mother._ I wonder whether it's wrong to let children get accustomed to bad drawings?
_Her Father._ Pamela doesn't get accustomed--she criticises. If it weren't for a silly tail here, a stupid face there, her critical faculty might lie for ever dormant.
_Pamela_ (_having turned over four or five pages with one grasp of the hand, as if determined to suppress the unsatisfactory horse_). R for Bunny.
_Her Mother._ No, dear, Rabbit. R for _R_abbit. B for _B_unny.
_Pamela_ (_gently_). No; B is for Dicky. The ugly dicky wiv the blue mouf.
_Pamela_ (_conscious of superior knowledge_). That isn't its name. That's what it looks like, all black; but its name is Dicky. B for Dicky.
_Her Father._ Well, have it your own way. What does S stand for?
_Pamela_ (_turning to the likeness of an elderly quadruped, with great assurance_). Baa-lamb!
_Her Father._ Sometimes we call baa-lambs sheep.
_Her Father._ You will when you grow older.
_Pamela._ I won't be any older, not for ever so long. Not till next birfday. (_Pushing her book away and assuming an air of extreme infancy_) Tired of reading. Want a piggy-back, _please_!