“Great Heavens!  God bless my soul!” he said, and Bunty shivered from head to foot.

Then he said a lot of things very quickly—­“foreign language” as Judy called it; kicked something over, and shouted “Esther!” in a terrifying tone.  But Esther was down in one of the paddocks with the General, so there was no reply.

More foreign language, more stomping about.

Bunty’s teeth chattered noisily; he put up his hand to hold his mouth together, and the cupboard, overbalanced, fell right over, precipitating its occupant right at his father’s feet, and the bottles everywhere.

“I didn’t—­I haven’t—­’twasn’t me—­’twasn’t my fault!” he howled, backing towards the door.  “Hoo—­yah—­boo-hoo-ooo!  Esther—­boo—­yah—­Judy—­oh—­oh—­h! oh—­oh—­h—­h—­h—­h!” As might be expected, his father had picked up a strap that lay conveniently near, and was giving his son a very fair taste of it.

“Oh—­h—­h—­h! o—­o—­h! o—­o—­h! ah—­h—­h! ’twasn’t me—­ ’twasn’t my fault—­its Pip and Judy—­oh—­h—­h—­h! hoo—­the pant’mime! boo-hoo! ah—­h—­h—­h—­you’re killing me! hoo-boo!  I was only d—­doin’ it—­oh—­hoo—­ah—­h—­h! d—­oin’ it to p—­please—­boo—­oo—­oo! to p—­please you!”

His father paused with uplifted strap.  “And that’s why all the others are behaving in so strange a fashion?  Just for me to take them to the pantomime?”

Bunty wriggled himself free.  “Boo—­hoo—­yes! but not me—­I didn’t—­I never—­true’s faith—­oh-h-h-hoo-yah! it wasn’t my fault, it’s all the others—­boo—­hoo—­hoo! hit them the rest.”

He got three more smart cuts, and then fled howling and yelling to the nursery, where he fell on the floor and kicked and rolled about as if he were half killed.

“You sn—­n—­n—­n—­neaks!” he sobbed, addressing the others, who had flown from all parts at his noisy outcry, “you m-m—–­ mean p—­p—­p—­pigs!  I h—­hadn’t n—­n—­no fo—­o—­ow-l, and I’ve h—­h—­had all the b—­b—­b—­beating! y—­you s—­s—­sn—­n-neaks! oh—­h—­h—­h! ah—­h—­h—­h! oh—­h—­h—­h! oh—­h—­h-h!  I’m b—­b—­ bleeding all over, I kno—­o—­o—­ow!”

They couldn’t help laughing a bit; Bunty was always so irresistibly comic when he was hurt ever so little; but still they comforted him as well as they could, and tried to find out what had happened.

Esther came in presently, looking very worried.  “Well?” they said in a breath.

“You really are the most exasperating children,” she said vexedly.

“But he pantomime—­quick, Esther—­have you asked him?” they cried impatiently.

“The pantomime!  He says he would rather make it worth Mr. Rignold’s while to take it off the boards than that one of you should catch a glimpse of it—­and it serves you very well right!  Meg, for goodness’ sake give Baby some dry clothes—­just look at her; and, Judy, if you have any feeling for me, take off that frock.  Bunty, you wicked boy, I’ll call your father if you don’t stop that noise.  Nell, take the scissors from the General, he’ll poke his eyes out, bless him.”