"Thank you, my dear," said Mr. Orange, "but I don't care about parliament myself."
So Mrs. Orange went once again without Mr. Orange to the room where the children were having supper, to see them playing at parliament. And she found some of the boys crying, "Hear, hear, hear!" while other boys cried, "No, no!" and others " Question!" "Spoke!" and all sorts of nonsense that you ever heard. Then one of those tiresome fat boys who had stopped the doorway told them that he was on his legs (as if they couldn't see that he wasn't on his head, or on his anything else) to explain, and that, with the permission of his honorable friend, if he would allow him to call him so (another tiresome boy bowed), he would proceed to explain. Then he went on for a long time in a sing-song (whatever he meant), did this troublesome fat boy, about that he held in his hand a glass; and about that he had come down to that house that night to discharge what he would call a public duty, and about that, on the present occasion, he would lay his hand (his other hand) upon his heart, and would tell honorable gentlemen that he was about to open the door to general approval. Then he opened the door by saying, "To our hostess!" and everybody else said "To our hostess!" and then there were cheers. Then another tiresome boy started up in sing-song, and then half a dozen noisy nonsensical boys at once. But at last Mrs. Alicumpaine said, "I cannot have this din. Now, children, you have played at parliament very nicely; but parliament gets tiresome after a little while, and it's time you left off, for you will soon be fetched."
After another dance (with more tearing to rags than before supper), they began to be fetched; and you will be very glad to be told that the tiresome fat boy who had been on his legs was walked off first without any ceremony. When they were all gone, poor Mrs. Alicumpaine dropped on a sofa, and said to Mrs. Orange, "These children will be the death of me at last, ma'am—they will indeed!"
"I quite adore them, ma'am," said Mrs. Orange; "but they DO want variety."
Mr. Orange got his hat, and Mrs. Orange got her bonnet and her baby, and they set out to walk home. They
