“Now, Harry!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, who during this conversation had been making mute appeals which her husband could not have resisted had he seen them, and knowing of the existence of which he had carefully kept his eyes averted from her face.
“If you don’t stop tormenting those poor children with stupid sections of dictionary you yourself shall realize my superiority by divine right, for I’ll take them up-stairs and away from you.”
“Only one more question, my dear,” said Mr. Burton, “and I’ll have done. I want only to ask the boys if they’ve noticed any conflicts of heredity, and, if so, which side has triumphed?”
“I guess you are tryin’ to play preacher, like Tod said,” remarked Budge.
“Oh!” said Mr. Burton, blushing a little under a merry laugh from his wife. “Well, how does it affect you?”
“It makes me feel like I do in church when I wish Sunday-school time would hurry up,” said Budge.
“Me too,” assented Toddie.
“You can run away and play now,” said Mrs. Burton, seeing that the children’s plates were empty.
The boys departed, the dog Terry apparently leading the way, yet being invisible when the children reached the open air.
“You needn’t have humiliated me before the children,” said Mrs. Burton.