"And we know just what she'll say," Conrad interrupted; "she'll say, 'If you older children all agree upon anything, I'm sure it can't be very far wrong or foolish'—just as she did time we put up the stove in her room."
"Yes, I can hear her now," said Ethel. "But still we must let her say it before we do a single thing, because, you know, she mightn't. An' then where'd the party be?"
"It would be scattered around where it was last Christmas—where all the parties are that don't be," said Conrad. "They must be the ones we are always put down for, an' that's how we get left; eh, Sisty?"
"Never mind, Buddy; we won't get left as you call it, this time, anyway—unless, of course, Momsy vetoes it."
"Vetoes what, children?"
They had been so noisy that they had not heard their mother's step on the creaking stairs.
Mrs. Frey carried her pencil and notes, and she looked tired, but she smiled indulgently as she repeated, "What am I to veto, dearies—or to approve?"
"It's a sequet! A Trismas sequel!"
"Yes, an' it's got owanges in it—"
"—An' bananas!"