“No,” said William, “it would be muddlin’ havin’ ’em both called by the same name. Folks wouldn’t know which they was talkin’ about.”
“When I stayed with my aunt,” said Ginger slowly, “there was a place called a Picture Palace de lucks. Let’s call it Wembley de lucks.”
“What’s de lucks mean,” said William suspiciously.
“I ’spect it means sorter good luck,” said Ginger.
“All right,” said William graciously, “that’ll do all right for a name. Now how’re we goin’ to let people know about it?”
“How did they let people know about the other Wembley?” said Henry.
“They put advertisements in the papers an’ things,” said Ginger who was beginning to consider himself the greatest living authority on the subject of the Wembley Exhibition.
“We can’t do that,” said Henry, “the papers sim’ly wouldn’t print ’em if we wrote ’em. I know ’cause I once sent somethin’ to a paper an’ they sim’ly didn’t print it.”
“Well, then,” said William undaunted, “we’ll write letters to people. They’ll have to read ’em. We’ll stick ’em through their letter boxes an’ they’ll have to read ’em case they was somethin’ important. An’ I say, it’s nearly stopped rainin’. Let’s see ’f we can find any more eggs.”
II