The next morning William leapt out of bed with an expression of stern resolve. “I’m goin’ to be p’lite,” he remarked to his bedroom furniture. “I’m goin’ to be p’lite all day.”
He met his father on the stairs as he went down to breakfast.
“Good mornin’, Father,” he said, with what he fondly imagined to be a courtly manner. “Can I do anything for you to-day?”
His father looked down at him suspiciously.
“What do you want now?” he demanded.
“GOOD MORNIN’, FATHER,” SAID WILLIAM WITH WHAT HE FONDLY IMAGINED TO BE A COURTLY MANNER.
“I’m only bein’ p’lite. It’s—you know—one of those things you take on New Year’s Day. Well, I’ve took one to be p’lite.”