We were out the other night. We left the children in the hands of our very competent middle-aged child minder. When we returned, she had a tale of adventure to relate.
The cat had brought in a small mouse between her iron jaws [an event which, alas, is only too common] and the child minder had squealed and looked away. The commotion brought the Princess downstairs. Leaving the child minder quivering in a chair, the Princess got out the dustpan and brush, reproved the [v. peeved] cat, swept up the corpse and covered it in tissues for safe disposal by the child minder. She then sailed back to bed having spread peace in her dominions.
In the morning, when complimented on her daring, she said, “It was only a small mouse; and it was dead.”
