“Father, what was the date of the Armada?”
“Good Heavens! How should I know? I wasn’t there.”
William sighed.
“Well, I’m tryin’ to write about it and why it failed an’—why did it fail?”
Mr. Brown groaned, gathered up his paper, and retired to the dining-room.
He had almost finished the leading article when William appeared, his arms full of books, and sat down quietly at the table.
“Father, what’s the French for ‘my aunt is walking in the garden’?”
“What on earth are you doing?” said Mr. Brown irritably.
“I’m doing my home-lessons,” said William virtuously.
“I never even knew you had the things to do.”