here were, in fact, few things she did not
"get up." It was the sight of Joan and Cuthbert walking together down
the road, the sun shining on their golden curls, that had inspired her
with the idea of "getting up" a children's play. And Joan must be the
Princess and little Cuthbert the Prince.

Mrs. de Vere Carter was to write the play herself. At first she
decided on Cinderella. Unfortunately there was a dearth of little
girls in the neighbourhood, and therefore it was decided at a meeting
composed of Mrs. de Vere Carter, Mrs. Clive, Mrs. Brown (William's
mother), and Ethel (William's sister), that William could easily be
dressed up to represent one of the ugly sisters. It was, however,
decided at a later meeting, consisting of William and his mother and
sister, that William could not take the part. It was William who came
to this decision. He was adamant against both threats and entreaties.
Without cherishing any delusions about his personal appearance, he
firmly declined to play the part of the ugly sister. They took the
news with deep apologies to Mrs. de Vere Carter, who was already in
the middle of the first act. Her already low opinion of William sank
to zero. Their next choice was little Red Riding Hood, and William was
lured, by glowing pictures of a realistic costume, into consenting to
take the part of the Wolf. Every day he had to be dragged by some
elder and responsible member of his family to a rehearsal. His hatred
of Cuthbert was only equalled by his hatred of Mrs. de Vere Carter.

"He acts so _unnaturally_," moaned Mrs. de Vere Carter. "Try really
to _think_ you're a wolf, darling. Put some spirit into it.
Be--_animated_."

William scowled at her and once more muttered monotonously his opening
lines:

"A wolf am I--a wolf on mischief bent,
To eat this little maid is my intent."

"Take a breath after 'bent,' darling. Now say it again."

William complied, introducing this time a loud and audible gasp to
represent the breath. Mrs. de Vere Carter sighed.

"Now, Cuthbert, darling, draw your little sword and put your arm round
Joan. That's right."

Cuthbert obeyed, and his clear voice rose in a high chanting monotone.

"Avaunt! Begone! You wicked wolf, away!
This gentle maid shall never be your prey."

"That's beautiful, darling. Now, William, slink away. _Slink_ away,
darling. Don't stand staring at Cuthbert like that. Slink away. I'll
show you. Watch me slink away."

Mrs. de