"Yes. An' I'm goin' to be King."
He unwrapped his parcel.
"Look!" he said.
He had ransacked his sister's bedroom. Once Ethel had been to a fancy
dress dance as a Fairy. Over Bettine's print frock he drew a crumpled
gauze slip with wings, torn in several places. On her brow he placed a
tinsel crown at a rakish angle. And she quivered with happiness.
"Oh, how lovely!" she said. "How lovely! How lovely!"
His own preparations were simpler. He tied a red sash that he had
taken off his sister's hat over his right shoulder and under his left
arm on the top of his smock. Someone had once given him a small 'bus
conductor's cap with a toy set of tickets and clippers. He placed the
cap upon his head with its peak over one eye. It was the only official
headgear he had been able to procure. Then he took a piece of burnt
cork from his parcel and solemnly drew a fierce and military moustache
upon his cheek and lip. To William no kind of theatricals was complete
without a corked moustache.
Then he took Bettine by the hand and led her out to the Maypole.
The dancers were all waiting holding the ribbons. The audience was
assembled and a murmur of conversation was rising from it. It ceased
abruptly as William and Bettine appeared. William's father, mother and
sister were in the front row. Robert was not there. Robert had
declined to come to anything in which that little wretch was to
perform. He'd jolly well had enough of that little wretch to last his
lifetime, thank you very much.
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