Victor examined the table. "It is all very nice, but there is no sugar."
"There was none to be had," cried the brother and sister, in chorus.
Victor put his hand into his pocket, and placed a silver box on the table. "What would become of you without me? Here is the sugar." He again dipped into his pocket, and brought out a leathern flask with a small drinking-glass. "Here is another important thing, the cognac."
"What for?" asked Siddy.
"To drink, most gracious cousin. If you will put this cold mess into your interior without cognac, I shall not venture to oppose you; but I advise you, Benno, as a man, to take care of your health."
Both held their spoons with an air of embarrassment.
"Is that necessary?" asked Benno, distrustfully.
"It is a pacifier, as our doctor says," declared Victor; "it calms and quells the rebel substances into quiet submission. If you refuse the cognac, it is just like on the way to hell. The path is easy at the beginning, but what follows is chaos. At all events, you would be spared the ballet to-day. Is that clear to you?"
"It is very clear," cried Siddy, "that you are as usual making sport of us. Give him a rap on his fingers, Benno."
Benno tapped his hand with the spoon. Victor sprang up and parried it, in fencing posture, with his spoon; and the brother and sister chased their cousin merrily about among the trees.