Pale and speechless, he went towards the stairs. His father was coming out of the library smoking a pipe. He looked at his son grimly.
"If you aren't downstairs cleaned by the time the lunch-bell goes, my son," he said, "you won't see that bugle of yours this side of Christmas."
William swallowed.
"Yes, father," he said meekly.
He went slowly upstairs to the bathroom.
Life was a rotten show.
X
The Helper
The excitement began at breakfast. William descended slightly late, and, after receiving his parents' reproaches with an air of weary boredom, ate his porridge listlessly. He had come to the conclusion that morning that there was a certain monotonous sameness about life. One got up, and had one's breakfast, and went to school, and had one's dinner, and went to school, and had one's tea, and played, and had one's supper, and went to bed. Even the fact that to-day was a half-term holiday did not dispel his depression. One day's holiday! What good was one day? We all have experienced such feelings.