Page:Arthur Stringer-The Loom of Destiny.djvu/139

The Honour of Hummerley Tiddlywinks was studiously and remarkably silent. The Ogre was there as usual, but the child scarcely dared to look in his face, lest the Ogre should see how he hated him. He knew it was useless for him to try to hide it. All the while the Ogre was eating his fish, the child was silently, ridiculously praying, "Please, God, choke this wicked Ogre to death with a fish-bone! Please, God, choke him; choke him—choke him dead!" until it ran through his little mind in a sort of musical refrain. When the Ogre finished his trout without choking, Tiddlywinks knew that even God himself had deserted him.

After that he felt a mysterious desire to fling the salad-bowl at the Ogre's head—just on the little shiny, bald spot. The child wondered if the great heavy, cut-glass bowl with the sharp points would kill the man dead if it hit him on the right spot.

At last dinner was over, and Tiddlywinks got down from his chair and was walking out of the room, when his mother called him back. 127