"'Es, wide us, wide us," chimed in Hester, not to be outdone.
"You fiends!" But Ted obediently got down on "all fours" while the small folks clambered up on his back and he "rode" them over to the bed, their bathrobes flying as they went. Arrived at the destination Ted deftly deposited his load in a giggling, squirming heap on the rug and then gathering up the small Hester, swung her aloft, bringing her down with her rose bud of a mouth close to Granny's pale cheeks.
"Kiss your flying angel, Granny, before she flies away again."
"Me! Me!" clamored Eric vociferously, hugging Ted's knees. "Me flying angel, too!"
"Not much," objected Ted. "No angel about you. Too, too much solid flesh and bones. Kiss Granny, quick. I hear your parents approaching."
Philip and Margery appeared on the threshold, seeking their obstreperous offspring.
There was another stampede, this time in the direction of the "parents."
"Ca'y me! Ca'y me, Daddy," chirruped Hester.
"No, me. Ride me piggy-back," insisted Eric.
"Such children!" smiled Margery. "Ted, you encourage them. They are more barbarian than ever when you are here, and they are bad enough under normal conditions."