[With his mouth full.] Hobby horse! Hobby horse!

[Pointing to the hobby horse.

Lizzie. Don't talk with your mouth full, Mr. Christopher.

Philip. [Shouting.] He'll choke! He'll choke!

[All laugh, tremendously amused.

Moles. Mr. Coast is a very fine gentleman.

Philip. Oh, I know! I saw him give you a dollar the other day, when he came to see auntie, and you advised his waiting and said auntie'd be in by five.

Lizzie. Isn't he a case!

Moles. He certainly is.

[Returns pitcher to table on the Left.

Christopher. I like Mr. Dick best. He's always taking us places and things.

Toots. [Who has finished his croquette and is now ready for conversation.] Um! Circus!

Philip. And not just 'cause he's stuck on auntie.

Moles. You oughtn't to use that expression, Mr. Philip.

Philip. Why not! you do. I heard you tell Lizzie you were stuck on her last Sunday.

Lizzie. [Blushing.] Oh, my!

Christopher. Mr. Dick's a soldier!

Philip. Yes, siree! He helped stop a strike of street cars in Brooklyn. His name was in the papers!

Christopher. He was hurted bad, and if he was dead, he'd have a monnyment with "Hero"

embroidered on it. Aunt Georgiana said so!

Elaine. I should think Miss Georgiana was too old, anyway, to have beaux.

Christopher. Oh, awful old!

Lizzie. Oh! Miss Carley isn't so old!

Philip. Yes, she is, too! She's our old maid aunt.

Elaine. If she wasn't old, she'd be married. It must be awful to be so old.

Philip. She's nearly thirty, I guess.

All the Children. Oh!

[Loud and long.

Christopher. You'll be deader soon after thirty, won't you?

Toots. [Crying.] I don't want Auntie Georgiana to be a deader!

Philip. [Bored.] Shut up!

Lizzie. [Comes to Toots and comforts him.]

Toots, dear!

Philip. I'm glad Aunt Georgiana's an old maid, 'cause I don't want her to leave us.

[Footman enters and stands at the Right.]

She gave me my birthday party.

Moles. Yes, and this whole house'd miss your aunt, I can tell you that, Mr. Philip. [Takes away the plates.] She just keeps things going smooth with everybody.

Philip. I told her I saw you kiss Lizzie on the back stairs, Saturday.

Moles. What!

[Gives dishes to the Footman.

Lizzie. He didn't! He didn't!

Philip. Yes, that's what Aunt Georgiana said, but I know better, and so does she, I guess!

Lizzie. Isn't he a case!

[Moles goes out with the Footman.

Philip. Now what?

Christopher. Soup!

Philip. Ice cream! I want ice cream!

Lizzie. Sh!

Elaine. My mamma don't let my brothers behave so at the table.

Philip. Neither don't we, 'cept our birthdays.

[Moles reënters with a tray and plates.

Christopher. What is it?

Philip. [Screams.] Eeh! Ice cream! It's ice cream!

Lizzie. Sh!

Philip. Go ahead, dish it out!

[Laughs.

[Moles serves ice cream to Elaine, then to Philip, Toots, and Christopher.

Christopher. Mr. Dick Coleman is gooder as

Cousin Sammy Coast.

Elaine. Aunt Georgiana is goodest as him!

Christopher. Aunt Georgiana is gooder as mamma!

Toots. And most goodest as grandma.

[Lizzie exchanges a glance with Moles and goes out Right.

Philip. Grandma! Rats!

Moles. [To Philip.] Sh!

Philip. [Shouts.] Stop, Chris! He's taking too much ice cream!

All the Children. Chris! Chris!

[They keep up the clamor, laughing and shouting, till Lizzie comes back.

Lizzie. Children! here comes grandma.

Philip. [Disgusted.] Oh, pshaw!

Christopher. Don't want grandma.

Lizzie. Sh!

[Mrs. Carley comes in from the Right. She is a middle-aged woman, of faded prettiness and frivolous manner. Every line and bit of character has been massaged out of her face. There is a sudden, embarrassed, and gloomy silence on the part of the children.

Mrs. Carley. Well, children, having a lovely party?

Philip. [Grudgingly.] Yes, ma'am!

Elaine. [Politely.] Yes, ma'am.

Christopher. Aunt Georgiana's party!

Mrs. Carley. Yes, dear, it's too bad mamma is ill in bed. She says when you are all through, you may come up and say how do you do, while she kisses Phil. [Silence.] That will be nice, won't it?

Philip. [Grudgingly.] Yes, ma'am.

Elaine. Yes, ma'am.

Christopher. Yes, ma'am.

Toots. No!

Mrs. Carley. We are glad you could come in, Elaine, and help celebrate Philip's birthday.

Elaine. Thank you, ma'am!

[Toots is mashing his ice cream strenuously with a spoon.

Mrs. Carley. Toots! don't be naughty and don't mash your ice cream up like that.

Toots. I like it.

Christopher. Me too—it makes soup!

[Copying Toots.

Mrs. Carley. Your collar's crooked, Chris.

[Arranging it.

Christopher. Ouch!

[Squirming.

Mrs. Carley. Phil, shall grandma cut your cake for you?