I keep telling him not to eat like a pig; and for about four mouthfuls he doesn't.

Then he forgets all about it; and I have to begin all over again." The guilty flush deepened in the cheeks of the prince.
"You must give it time to sink in.

He's not used to learning things; he has been so neglected," said the Honourable John Ruffin with a hospitable desire to make things easier for her royal guest.
Pollyooly shook her head doubtfully, and frowned sadly upon the prince.
"It would take weeks and weeks; and I don't really ever see him at meals," she said.
"Never mind: do what you can when you get the chance," said the Honourable John Ruffin in a heartening tone.
"That's what I must do," said Pollyooly; but there was no great hopefulness in her voice.
Sadly she handed a plate of cake to Prince Adalbert.

There was a sudden gleam in his small, but Hohenzollern, eye, and in one swift gesture he took, or rather, to be exact, grabbed a slice, and thrust a corner of it into his mouth.
As Pollyooly had said, for the first four bites all was well; but the next three were accompanied by a slushy noise such as arises in a pigstye at mealtime.
"There! There it is again!" she cried in tones of the bitterest protest.

"Isn't it dreadful ?" The prince flushed a darker red and hushed the slushy accompaniment.
The Honourable John Ruffin looked sympathetically sad.
"I couldn't have believed that anybody could be so hard to teach a little thing like that to," said Pollyooly mournfully.
The prince grunted.
"Yes.