l care, and the child seemed to
like it, making occasional dashes on to the lawn to join William and
the others, whose restraint having passed were playing with joyous
zest, under the direction of the elder brother.

It was getting near to tea time when "Chuck" Epstein appeared on the
scene. Tired of their play, the children had assembled on the
verandah, Dolly sitting on Miss Whimple's knee looking over a picture
book, the others listening to one of William's fairy stories. "Chuck,"
whose acquaintance with Miss Whimple dated back many years, took a seat
near them. He was joyfully greeted by William and "the bunch," and
Miss Whimple felt something like a pang of jealousy when Dolly wriggled
from her knee and went to Epstein. It was only for a moment though,
the child was palpably so delighted to be with the old comedian, whose
smile of greeting to her was wonderfully expressive. He tenderly
lifted her to his knees, and with an arm around her little body, held
her close to his side. William was dethroned, and he knew it, and
accepted the situation quite calmly, though he did not laugh so
heartily as the others when Pete demanded, "Tell us one of your
stories, Mr. Epstein, they beat Billy's to bits." And Epstein told
one, and then another, and another. He acted them too. The children
screamed with delight as he changed his voice to each character of the
story, yes, and changed his very appearance as they watched him, and
all so naturally, so easily, that they seemed to be hearing and seeing
so many different people taking part in the unfolding of the tales.
They were almost hanging to the old man, when the maid appeared with
the announcement that tea was ready. They entered the airy
dining-room, crowding around "Chuck," all begging to be allowed to sit
next him, and the argument grew so heated that William had to settle
it. "Dolly on one side," he said with emphasis, "and Bessie on the
other, and everybody keeps quiet or gets out," and then in a loud
whisper to Pete and Joey, "Don't you be makin' hogs of yourselves. No
more'n three pieces of cake, mind."

But the terror of William's threats faded before the hunger of "the
bunch," and the determination of Miss Whimple and the maid, to say
nothing of Epstein, to see that it was appeased. Pete ate until even
to chew became a decided effort, and when Miss Whimple pressed him to
take "just one more piece of pie," he answered wearily, "It ain't no
good, Miss Whim