The day of his party drew near.
" My party," he would echo bitterly when anyone of his family mentioned it. "I don't want it. I don't want ole Johnnie Brent an' all that lot. I'd just like to un-invite 'em all."
"But you want Ginger and Douglas and Henry," coaxed his Mother.
"I can have them any time an' I don't like 'em at parties. They're not the same. I don't like anyone at parties. I don't want a party!"
"But you must have a party, William, to ask back people who ask you."
William took up his previous attitude.
"Well, where's the sense of it?" he groaned.
As usual he had the last word, but left his audience unconvinced. They began on him a full hour before his guests were due. He was brushed and
