"Tables," he explained. "Yes, please, crackers; and quite a lot of cheese, please."
"Greedy Gobble!" interjected Merton.
"Well, I like that!" said Basil. "Who ate my sandwich, when I was looking out of the window? I tell you what, I'd punch your head for two cents, young feller!"
"Boys," said Margaret, decidedly, "I cannot have this! While you are with me, I expect you to behave decently."
"Yes, ma'am!" said both boys, with ready cheerfulness; and Basil continued his explanation.
"We see which can hang on to a table longest, don't you know, by your teeth. Did ever you?"
"No, I certainly never did; and—I don't think you'd better try it here, Basil. It must be very hard on your teeth, besides ruining the table."
"It ain't healthy for the table," Basil admitted. "You ought to see the tables at home! It makes like a little pattern round the edge, sometimes. Quite pretty, I think. Say, are you the boss here?"
Seated on the pantry dresser, swinging his legs, the young gentleman seemed as much at home as if he had spent his life at Fernley. The two other children were eating hastily and furtively, as if they feared each bite might be their last. Basil crunched his crackers and nibbled his cheese with an air of perfect unconcern. "Are you the boss here?" he repeated.
"Am I in authority, do you mean?" asked Margaret, who could not abide slang of any kind. "No, indeed, Basil. Your Uncle John is the head of the house, in every possible way. I hope you are all going to be very good and obedient. He is the kindest, best man in the whole world."