"
"Only six?" said Aunt Isobel with commendable gravity.
"But there are the lids," said Bobby; "six of them, and six boxes,
make twelve, you know. I've only one cloak, but it's red on one side
and blue on the other, and two kinds of buttons. Well; I come on left
for the First Traveller, with my cloak the red side out, and this
white chimney-pot hat."
"Ah!" said Aunt Isobel.
"And one of the bandboxes under my cloak. The Dragon attacks me in the
centre, and drives me off the right, where I smash up the bandbox,
which sounds like him crunching my bones. Then I roll the thunder,
turn my cloak to the blue side, put on this wideawake, and come on
again with a bandbox lid and crunch that, and roll more thunder, and
so on. I'm the Faithful Attendant and the Bereaved Father as well,"
added Bobby, with justifiable pride, "and I would have done the Dragon
if they would have let me."
But even Bobby did not outdo the rest of us in willingness. Alice's
efforts were obvious tokens of remorse; she waited on Philip, was
attentive to Mr. Clinton (who, I think, to this day believes that he
made himself especially acceptable to "the young ladies"), and
surpassed herself on the stage.
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