Robert calmly stated his position.
"If William's not going to church, I'm going, and if William's going to church, I'm not. All I want is peace."
"I shun't make a noise if I stayed at home," said William in a tone of righteous indignation at the idea. "I'd jus' sit qui'tly readin'. I don't feel like bein' rough or anything like that. I'm not feelin' well at all," he ended plaintively.
Mr. Brown came downstairs, tophatted and gloved.
"What's the matter?" he said.
"William's too ill to go to church," said Robert in an unfeeling tone of voice.
William raised his healthy, ruddy countenance.
"I'd like to go to church," he explained to his father. "I'm disappointed not to go. But I jus' don't feel well. I'm took ill sudden. I'd jus' like to go an' lie down qui'tly—out of doors," he stipulated hastily. "I feel's if I went to church I might worry everybody with bein' so ill. I feel"—his Pegasean imagination soared aloft on daring wings—"I feel 's if I might die if I went to church this mornin' feelin' 's ill as I do now."
"If you're as bad as that," Mr. Brown said callously, as he brushed his coat, "I suppose you might as well die in church as anywhere."
This remark deprived William of the power of speech for some time.