He had made up his mind to go home and take the stuff off. It was coming off, anyway. It was possible that he might be home for tea. It was possible—he was rather doubtful about this, but determined to be optimistic—that his father might not come to hear of the affair. Anyway, it had been fun. It had been fun in the woods, and those old loonies had been fun, and the cakes had been scrummy.
******
In the garden peace was restored. The audience sat once more in orderly rows. At the table sat Mr. Theophilus Mugg, the Reverend Habbakuk Jones and the native protégé, now cool and peaceful and replete with cakes and milk. A name was being whispered from mouth to mouth among the audience. The Reverend Habbakuk Jones rose to his feet.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began.
From the back now rose a shrill, excited voice. "I said it was William Brown."
CHAPTER IX
JUST WILLIAM'S LUCK
William had accompanied his mother on a visit to Aunt Ellen. Mrs. Brown was recovering from an attack of influenza, and the doctor had ordered a change.
William did not accompany her because his presence was in any way likely to help her convalescence. On the contrary it was warranted to reduce any person of normal health to a state of acute nervous breakdown. He accompanied her solely because the rest of the family refused to be left in charge of him.
As his grown-up brother Robert somewhat ungraciously put it, "Mother's ill already, and William can't make her much worse. It's no use getting the whole lot of us knocked up. Besides, Mother likes William." He made the last statement in the tone of voice in which one makes a statement that is almost incredible, but true.