“No, dear,” answered Mrs. Martin, as she laid aside her sewing and looked at the clock. “To exaggerate means to tell what isn’t exactly so so as to make anything seem bigger than it is. Now I don’t really believe you have picked the buttons off the floor more than five times to-night, have you, Teddy?” she asked.
“Well, maybe it was—maybe it was—six!” replied the curly-headed little lad.
“And you said fifty!” laughed his mother. “That’s exaggeration—making a thing too big, Teddy, my boy!”
“Mrs. Henderson that lives across the street is zaggerated, isn’t she, Mother?” asked Janet, as Teddy was busy picking up the buttons Trouble had knocked to the floor.
“Mrs. Henderson exaggerated? Why, Jan, what do you mean?” asked Mrs. Martin.
“I mean she’s awful big—fat, you know,” explained the little girl. “She’s zaggerated all right, isn’t she?”
“Oh, it doesn’t mean that at all!” said Mrs. Martin, trying not to laugh. “And you mustn’t say ‘awful’ when you mean only ‘very much,’ Janet. That’s exaggeration, too. But, Trouble, I think it’s time for you to go to bed. I’ll take him upstairs,” she said to the two older children, “and then you can play your game a little longer without any one to bother you. Come, Trouble, dear!”
“Ho! Don’t want to go to bed! I want wed buttons!” and the little boy tried to reach over the table to where Ted had placed a pile of buttons of different colors.
“Ho, William! Come with mother,” said Mrs. Martin quietly. When she used any of the children’s real names—such as William, Theodore or Janet, instead of Trouble, Ted or Jan, the little folks knew Mrs. Martin was in earnest and that it was useless to beg further. Trouble heard his right name spoken and he gave a long sigh. Bedtime had come after a long, happy day.
“Could I have one more wed button?” he asked wistfully.