“Yurr, pass oi that troifle, oi dearly do luv troifle. Hurr, coom on, Abbot zurr, you’m b’aint ayten ’ardly a boit. Let oi ’elp you t’ summ o’ thiz yurr salad ’n’bread’n’-cheese’n bell tower pudden.”

“Oh er, all together? Thank you, Foremole, most kind. Have you tried my Redcurrantwall Abbot Alf cake?”

“Strike me sails, Mordalfus, that’s a nice long name for a good-sized cake,” Winifred commented. “Ho, it tastes ’andsome. Pass us the cider, matey.”

“My, my, Basil, you’re not saying much.”

“Mmmfff scrumff grumphhh. Action, laddie buck, that’s the ticket. Grmffff, munchmunch, slurrrp!”

“Try some of my woodland pie, Matthias. By the fur, is that Basil behind the huge plateful over there?”

“Thank you, Brother Rufus. A little more nutbrown beer for you? Haha, so it is. Every time his ears show over the top of that pile of food he shoves more on it. Oh dear, I’m sure he’ll explode before the evening’s out. Hi, Basil, steady on old lad.”

“Grmmmfff, munch. Beg pardon, old mouse, can’t hear you. Must be me old war wound, snchhh, gulp! Oh no, it’s a stick of celery in me ear. How’d that get there, chompchomp, grumphhh!”

The Abbot was upstanding now. He beat upon the table with a wooden ladle.

“Silence, please. Give order and make way for Friar Hugo and the fish.”

The carp was on a low wide trolley. Hugo would allow none to help. Proudly he pulled and tugged until he drew it up to the table. Fanning himself with the tail-held dockleaf, he regained his breath.

“Abbot, the fish prayer, if you please.”

The eating stopped. All sat in reverent silence as Mordalfus spread his paws over the carp and intoned:

“Fur and whisker, tooth and claw,

All who enter by our door.

Nuts and herbs, leaves and fruits,

Berries, tubers, plants and roots,

Silver fish whose life we take

Only for a meal to make.”

There was a loud and heartfelt “Amen” from all.

The Abbot gave the proceedings over to Hugo, and the fat little Friar cleared his throat.

“Ahem, my friends, this year I have created for you a dish known as Carp Capitale. You will observe that I marinated my fish in a mixture of cider and dandelion extract. It has been grilled on a turning spit, skinned and laid in a slow-cooking mixture of cream and mushrooms with hotroot pepper, then garnished with flaked almond, mint leaves and chopped greens.”

“Absolutely spiffin’. I say, Hugo, you old pan-walloper, d’you need a good steady-pawed fellow to help you t’ serve the old trout, wot wot?”

Friar Hugo never blinked an eyelid, but there were titters and smothered giggles from every corner at Basil’s offer. Hugo addressed the Abbot:

“Lord Abbot, before I serve you the first portion to taste, can I suggest jugged hare for our next banquet?”