"Well, we're his children," pursued Maizie, apparently unconvinced. "And
I don't see why we shouldn't have some nice things to eat, too."

"But there's so many of us," said Suzanna.

"Why did father leave orders for so many of us then?" said Maizie
looking up. Belligerence was now in her tone, in her very attitude.

"Now," said Mrs. Procter, firmly. "We must not talk this way. Father
doesn't like syrup. It doesn't agree with him. You're a very naughty
little girl this morning, Maizie."

Maizie was again on the point of tears. Lest they overflow she rose
quickly from the table and left the room.

"Maizie's in a bad humor today," said Mrs. Procter to Suzanna.

"Maybe she feels bad today, mother, because it's Wednesday."

"Well, what in the world has the day to do with it!" Mrs. Procter
exclaimed.

"Well, Wednesday you know is the shape of a big black bear. It's not
like Thursday, that's the shape of a great snowy white ship on a
sparkling sea. I don't like Wednesday myself, mother."

"Well, I'm sorry," returned Mrs. Procter. "But it's not in my power to
shape days to please you children," she spoke crisply.

"Are you tired, mother?" asked Suzanna, after a pause.