"William," said Barbara pleasantly, "I can dweam. Can you?"
He made no answer.
"Answer your cousin, William," said his mother.
He swallowed, then spoke plaintively, "You always say not to talk with my mouth full," he said.
"You could speak when you've finished the mouthful."
"No. 'Cause I want to fill it again then," said William, firmly.
"Dear, dear!" murmured Aunt Jane.
This was Aunt Jane's usual contribution to any conversation.
He looked coldly at the three pairs of horrified aunts' eyes around him, then placidly continued his meal.
Mrs. Brown hastily changed the subject of conversation. The art of combining the duties of mother and hostess is sometimes a difficult one.
Christmas afternoon is a time of rest. The three aunts w