Upon his bed was a large pop-gun, a football, a dormouse in a cage, a punchball on a stand, a large box of "curios," and a buckskin which was his dearest possession and had been presented to him by an uncle from South Africa.
Mrs. Brown sat down weakly on a chair.
"You can't possibly take any of these things," she said faintly but firmly.
"Well, you said put my things on the bed for you to pack an' I've put them on the bed, an' now you say——"
"I meant clothes."
"Oh, clothes!" scornfully. "I never thought of clothes."
"Well, you can't take any of these things, anyway."
William hastily began to defend his collection of treasures.
"I mus' have the pop-gun 'cause you never know. There may be pirates an' smugglers down there, an' you can kill a man with a pop-gun if you get near enough and know the right place, an' I might need it. An' I must have the football to play on the sands with, an' the punchball to practise boxin' on, an' I must have the dormouse, 'cause—'cause to feed him, an' I must have this box of things and this skin to show to folks I meet down at the seaside, 'cause they're int'restin'."
But Mrs. Brown was firm, and William reluctantly yielded.