“Little Mr. Severity!” said Aunt Emma, pulling his brown curls. “It’s your turn next, Olly.”
“Then Milly must kiss me first,” said Olly, looking rather scared, as if something he didn’t quite understand was going to happen to him.
So Milly went through the operation of kissing him three times on the back of the head, and then Olly’s eyes, finding it did no good to stare at Aunt Emma or mother, went wandering all round the room in search of something else to help him. Suddenly they came to the window, where a brown speck was dancing up and down, and then Olly’s face brightened, and he began in a great hurry:
“Once upon a time there was a daddy-long-legs—”
“Well,” said Milly, when they had waited a little while, and nothing more came.
“I don’t know any more,” said Olly.
“Oh, that is silly,” said Milly, “why, that isn’t a story at all. Shut your eyes tight, that’s much the best way of making a story.”
So Olly shut his eyes, and pressed his two hands tightly over them, and then he began again:
“Once upon a time there was a daddy-long-legs—”
Another stop.