“Don’t take that!” cried Janet. “Ma—I mean Mother—please make him stop!” and she tried to push Trouble’s hand away.
“Wed buttons all mine!” cried Trouble, just a trace of tears coming into his eyes.
“No, Trouble,” said Ted, more gently. “Let sister have the red buttons. We’re playing a game with them. I’ll let you take all the white buttons!”
“I want wed buttons!” wailed Trouble, and as he still tried to get a handful of them from Janet, and as Janet was doing her best to stop William from doing this, there was a little scramble at the table. Trouble’s hand slipped, the buttons slid across the smooth oak boards and fell with a clatter to the floor.
“There! Now look what you did, Trouble Martin!” cried Janet, as she leaned back in her chair. “All the nice buttons are on the floor!”
Trouble seemed much surprised by what he had done. He opened his fat little fist, and out rolled more buttons, some of which rattled to the floor.
“Oh, Mother, he’s spoiling all our game!” said Janet. “Please make him stop!”
“I’ll pick up the buttons,” said Teddy, with a sigh. “I guess this is about fifty times I’ve done it to-night.”
“Oh, hardly as many as that, I think,” said his mother, with a smile, as she thrust her needle into the cloth she was sewing. “You must not exaggerate, Teddy.”
“What’s zaggerate, Mother?” asked Janet. “Is that a new game you can play with buttons?”