"Will you help them, very carefully, please, papa?" asked the mother.
"I want some, too," said a bright, handsome boy of five, upraising his sparkling eyes to his father's face.
"Oh, no, Roland, you are such a wee boy; if you have it, Leonard will want it."
"I do like it so much; let me have just a little drop in papa's glass," teased Roland.
"Oh, come, mamma; that'll never hurt him; only help to make a man of him, won't it, Roland?" said his father.
"Yes, make me a man, like my papa! When I'm big, I'll drink, oh, bottles and bottles; not have a taste of papa's," said the child, looking contemptuously at the remains of the sparkling wine, which, in his father's glass, had been set before him.
"When you're a man, Roland, you will be a little wiser than you are now," said his father, somewhat sharply.
"I'll be as wise as—as—that man in the picture on the library wall, perhaps."
"Who's that?" asked the guest, in amused tones.
"Why, Gladstone! The precocious youngster strongly admires him, and is for ever declaring his intention of copying his hero's plan of life."