The audience gasped.
“When you’ve given in your halfpennies,” said William firmly, “then you can see this wonderfu’ an’ unique c’lection of twenty sep’rate an’ distinct speeshees of butterflies all c’lected together.”
Eagerly the halfpennies were given to William. He handed them to Douglas, triumphantly. “Go an’ buy the marbles, quick,” he said in a hoarse whisper, “case they want ’em back.”
Then he turned to his audience, smoothed back his hair, and reassumed his showman manner.
*****
In Mrs. Brown’s drawing-room the members of the Society for the Encouragement of Higher Thought were recovering from various stages of hysterics.
“We shall have to dissolve the society,” said Miss Euphemia Barney. “She’ll tell everyone. It’s a wicked name for a rat, anyway—almost blasphemous—I’m sure it comes in the Bible. How was one to know? But people will never forget it.”
“We might form ourselves again a little later under a different name,” suggested the Secretary.
“People will always remember,” said Miss Euphemia. “They’re so uncharitable. It’s a most unfortunate occurrence. And,” setting her lips grimly, “as is the case with most of the unfortunate occurrences in this village, the direct cause is that terrible boy, William Brown.”
At that moment the direct cause of most of the unfortunate occurrences in the village, with his friends around him, his precious box of butterflies by his side, and happiness in his heart, was just beginning the hard-won, long-deferred game of marbles.