“Come on,” he shouted, “’fore they’re all sold out. Race you to the end of the road!”
CHAPTER XIV
A DRESS REHEARSAL
IT was Saturday, but despite that glorious fact, William, standing at the dining-room window and surveying the world at large, could not for the moment think of anything to do.
From the window he saw the figure of his father, who sat peacefully on the lawn reading a newspaper. William was not fond of his own society. He liked company of any sort. He went out to the lawn and stood by his father’s chair.
“You’ve not got much hair right on the top of your head, father,” he said pleasantly and conversationally.
There was no answer.
“I said you’d not got much hair on the top of your head,” repeated William in a louder tone.
“I heard you,” said his father coldly.
“Oh,” said William, sitting down on the ground. There was silence for a minute, then William said in friendly tones: