Miss Tabitha, happening to look up from the débris of a small table which one of the removers had carelessly and gracefully crushed against the wall, saw a boy perched on her wall, scowling at her. She did not know that the scowl was William’s ordinary normal expression. She smiled apologetically.
“Good afternoon,” she said.
“Arternoon,” said William.
There was silence for a time while another of the removers took the door off its hinges with little or no effort by means of a small piano which he then placed firmly upon another remover’s foot. Then the silence was broken. During the breaking of silence, William’s scowl disappeared and a rapt smile appeared on his face.
“Can’t they think of things to say?” he said delightedly to Miss Tabitha when a partial peace was restored.
Miss Tabitha raised a face of horror and misery.
“Oh, dear!” she said in a voice that trembled, “it’s simply dreadful!”
William’s chivalry (that curious quality) was aroused. He leapt heavily from the wall.
“I’ll help,” he said airily. “Don’t you worry.”
He helped.