His father apologised. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You see, I’m not used to it. It startled me.”
At breakfast William’s politeness shone forth in all its glory.
“Can I pass you anything, Robert?” he said sweetly.
His elder brother coldly ignored him. “Going to rain again,” he said to the world in general.
“If you’ll ’scuse me contradicting of you Robert,” said William, “I heard the milkman sayin’ it was goin’ to be fine. If you’ll ’scuse me contradictin’ you.”
“Look here!” said Robert angrily, “Less of your cheek!”
“Seems to me no one in this house understands wot bein’ p’lite is,” said William bitterly. “Seems to me one might go on bein’ p’lite in this house for years an’ no one know wot one was doin’.”
His mother looked at him anxiously.
“You’re feeling quite well, dear, aren’t you?” she said. “You haven’t got a headache or anything, have you?”
“No. I’m bein’ p’lite,” he said irritably, then pulled himself up suddenly. “I’m quite well, thank you, Mother dear,” he said in a tone of cloying sweetness.