His mother considered.
“I almost think we have enough helpers, thank you, William,” she said, “we don’t want too many.”
“Oh, do let William feed the white elephants and take them out for a walk,” pleaded his father.
William glowered at him furiously.
“Of course,” said his mother, “it’s always useful to have someone to send on messages, so if you’ll just be there, William, in case I need you ... I daresay there’ll be a few little odd jobs you could do.”
“I’ll sell the things for you if you like,” said William graciously.
“Oh no,” said his mother hastily, “I—I don’t think you need do that, William, thank you.”
William emitted a meaning “Huh!”—a mixture of contempt and mystery and superiority and sardonic amusement.
His father rose and folded up his newspaper.
“Take plenty of buns, William, and mind they don’t bite you,” he said kindly.