"Your grandfather! What! that young man? Why, he is not more than twenty-two and three quarters, I'm sure," replied Maude.
"You are right. He is twenty-two and three quarters. You don't quite understand our relationships. The boy, as you have no doubt heard, is father to the man. Very well. I am the man. When he was a boy on my aunt's side he was father to me. That's plain enough. He has grown older since then, though he is little more than a boy in discretion still, therefore he is my grandfather."
"How very absurdly you do talk, Mr Zankiwank," laughed Willie; "but here is your grandfather," and at that moment Jorumgander the Younger left his shop and approached them with a case of pens which he offered for sale.
"Try my Magic Pens. They are the best in the market, because there are no others. There is no demand for them, and few folk will have them for a gift. Therefore I can highly recommend them."
"How can you recommend your pens, when you declare that nobody will buy them?" demanded Willie.
"Because they are a novelty. They are Magic Pens, you know, and of course as nobody possesses any, they must be rare. That is logic, I think."
"Buy one," said the Zankiwank, "he has not had any supper yet."
"In what way are they Magic Pens?" enquired Maude.