the money._)

VIOLETTA. Thank you. (_She gives it to the boy._) Now we are ready
to begin. Milk, please. (_The boy who holds the milk jar comes
forward and kneels._) I take some of this milk and beat it well.

YELLOW HOSE (_in a whisper_). _Beat_ it--milk!

VIOLETTA. Then I put in two tablespoonfuls of salt, taking great
care that it falls exactly in the middle of the bowl. (_To the
little boy_) Thank you, dear. Now the flour, no, the pepper, and
then--one pound of butter. I hope that it is good butter, or the
whole thing will be quite spoiled.

BLUE HOSE. This is the most astonishing thing I have ever
witnessed.

YELLOW HOSE. I don't understand it.

VIOLETTA (_stirring_). I find that the butter is _not_ very
good. It makes a great difference. I shall have to use more
pepper to counteract it. That's better. (_She pours in pepper. The
boy with the pepper pot sneezes violently._) Oh, oh, dear! Lend
him your handkerchief, Chancellor. Knave, will you? (YELLOW HOSE
_silences the boy's sneezes with the_ KNAVE'S _handkerchief._) I
think that they are going to turn out very well. Aren't you glad,
Chancellor? You shall have one if you will be glad and smile
nicely--a little brown tart with raspberry jam in the middle. Now
for a dash of vinegar.

COOKS (_in horror_). Vinegar! Great Goslings! Vinegar!

VIOLETTA (_stops stirring_). Vinegar will make them crumbly. Do you
like them crumbly, Pompdebile, darling? They are really for you,
you know, since I am trying, by this example, to show all the
wives how to please all the husbands.

POMPDEBILE. Remember that they are to go in the museum with the
tests of the previous Queens.

VIOLETTA (_thoughtfully_). Oh, yes, I had forgotten that. Under the
circumstances, I shall omit the vinegar. We don't want them too
crumbly. They would fall about and catch the dust so frightfully.
The museum-keeper would never forgive me in years to come. Now I
dip them by the spoonful on this pan; fill them with the nice
little boy's raspberry jam--I'm sorry I have to use it all, but
you may lick the spoon--put them in the oven, slam the door. Now,
my Lord Pompy, the fire will do the rest.

(_She curtsies before the_ KING.)

POMPDEBILE. It gave us great pleasure to see the ease with which
you performed your task. You must have been practising for weeks.
This relieves, somewhat, the anxiety under which we have been
suffering and makes us think that we would enjoy a game of
checkers once mor