of color were wet, and the effect upon William's pale-gray
trousers was marvelous--far beyond the capacity of his coat to conceal.
Collar-buttons and children's paint-boxes--those are the trolls that lie
in wait!

The gray clothes and the flannel trousers had been destined for the
professional cleaner, and William, rousing himself from a brief stupor,
made a piteous effort to substitute himself for that expert so far
as the gray trousers were concerned. He divested himself of them and
brought water, towels, bath-soap, and a rubber bath-sponge to the bright
light of his window; and; there, with touching courage and persistence,
he tried to scrub the paint out of the cloth. He obtained cloud studies
and marines which would have interested a Post-Impressionist, but upon
trousers they seemed out of place.

There came one seeking and calling him again; raps sounded upon the
door, which he had not forgotten to lock.

"Willie," said a serious voice, "mamma wants to know what in mercy's
name is the matter! She wants to know if you know for mercy's name what
time it is! She wants to know what in mercy's name you think they're all
goin' to think! She says--"

"G'WAY!"

"Well, she said I had to find out what in mercy's name you're doin',
Willie."

"You tell her," he shouted, hoarsely--"tell her I'm playin' dominoes!
What's she THINK I'm doin'?"

"I guess"--Jane paused, evidently to complete the swallowing of
something--"I guess she thinks you're goin' crazy. I don't like Miss
Pratt, but she lets me play with that little dog. It's name's Flopit!"

"You go 'way from that door and stop bothering me," said William. "I got
enough on my mind!"

"Mamma looks at Miss Pratt," Jane remarked. "Miss Pratt puts cakes in
that Mr. Bullitt's mouth and Johnnie Watson's mouth, too. She's awful."

William made it plain that these bulletins from the party found no favor
with him. He bellowed, "If you don't get away from that DOOR--"

Jane was interested in the conversation, but felt that it would be
better to return to the refreshment-table. There she made use of her own
conception of a whisper to place before her mother a report which was
considered interesting and even curious by every one present; though,
such was the courtesy of the little assembly, there was a general
pretense of not hearing.

"I told him," thus whispered Jane, "an' he said, 'You g'way from that
door or I'll do somep'm'--he didn't say what, mamma. He said, 'What