But their wooden nature was unconquerable.

One could not pretend to eat a whole chicken any better when it was detached from its dish, and the sausages were one solid block.

And when you licked the jelly it only tasted of glue and paint.

And when we tried to re-roast the chickens at the nursery grate, they caught fire, and then they smelt of gasworks and india-rubber.

But I am wandering.