“Still raining,” said Henry morosely.
“I bet your mother’ll say something about that tear,” said William to Ginger severely.
“Well, you bet wrong then,” said Ginger, “’cause she’s gone to London to see the Exhibition.”
“Fancy goin’ to London to see an ole exhibition,” said William scornfully, “What she see there?”
“Oh, natives,” said Ginger, “black uns, you know, an’ native places an’ jugs an’ things made by natives.”
“That all?”
“Well, there’s amusements an’ things too, but that’s all really,” said Ginger. “You pay money an’ jus’ see ’em’ an’ that’s all.”
“Crumbs!” said William. His face was set in deep scowling thought for a minute, then a light broke over it. “I say,” he said, “let’s have a nexhibition—let’s get a nexhibition up. Well, ’f Ginger’s mother ’ll go all the way to London to see a nexhibition it’d—well, it’d be savin’ folks’ money to givvem a nexhibition here.”
“We’ve done things like that,” said Henry morosely. “We’ve got up shows an’ things an’ they’ve always turned out wrong.”
“We’ve never got up a nexhibition,” said William, “a nexhibition’s quite diff’rent. It couldn’t go wrong an’ we’d make ever so much money.”