laintively, "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 withdrew from
public life. Aunt Lucy found a book of sermons in the library and
retired to her bedroom with it.

"It's the next best thing, I think," she said with a sad glance at
William.

William was beginning definitely to dislike Aunt Lucy.

"Please'm," said the cook an hour later, "the mincing machine's
disappeared."

"Disappeared?" said William's mother, raising her hand to her head.

"Clean gone'm. 'Ow'm I to get the supper'm? You said as 'ow I could
get it done this afternoon so as to go to church this evening. I can't
do nuffink with the mincing machine gone."

"I'll come and look."

They searched every corner of the kitchen, then William's mother had
an idea. William's mother had not been William's mother for eleven
years without learning many things. She went wearily up to William's
bedroom.

William was sitting on the floor. Open beside him was "Things a Boy
Can Do." Around him lay various parts of the mincing machine. His face
was set and strained in mental and physical effort. He looked up as
she entered.

"It's a funny kind of mincing machine," he said, crushingly. "It's not
got enough parts. It's _made_ wrong----"

"Do you know," she said, slowly, "that we've all been looking for that
mincin' machine for the last half-hour?"

"No," he said without much interest, "I di'n't. I'd have told you I
was mendin' it if you'd told me you was lookin' for it. It's _wrong_,"
he went on aggrievedly. "I can't make anything with it. Look! It says
in my book 'How to make a model railway signal with parts of a mincing
machine.' Listen! It says, 'Borrow a mincing machine from your
mother----"

"Did you borrow it?" said Mrs. Brown.

"Yes. Well, I've got it, haven't I? I went all the way down to the
kitchen for it."

"Who lent it to you?"

"No one _lent_ it me. I _borrowed_ it. I thought you'd like to see a
mod