Nobody accepted the challenge. They merely gazed incredulously at William's freckled homely countenance.
" 'S easy enough," said William carelessly; " you jus' put on a sort of soppy look. The sort of soppy look Ethel's got."
William here rolled up his eyes and assumed the expression commonly attributed to a dying duck in a thunderstorm. The others blinked and blenched, but, not wishing the discussion to descend to the physical plane before some agreement had been reached, refrained from comment.
" What about clothes anyway ? " said Douglas, " it's harder to get ladies' clothes than men's."
" Tell you what," said William, " Ethel had a dress once when she was smaller than what she is now. She went to a fancy-dress dance in it. It's Mary Queen of Scots or somethin' like that. I know where it is. I could borrow it from her. I'd put it back afterwards an' no one 'd ever know."
" All right," said Ginger, " we'd better put up a notice about it."
" Yes, we will," said William. " I'll make it up. An' we won't pretend to be reel waxworks this time 'cause they know now we aren't. We'll jus' pretend to be people pretendin' to be waxworks. An' we'll have a notice about the lady. I bet they'll all want to come and see her. An' I bet they'll none of them know it's me. I bet when I'm dressed up as a lady an' put on my soppy look they'll none of them know it's me."
William's notice was the result of much hard labour and deep thought. He broke three nibs (William was rather hard on nibs) and dyed all his fingers black to the bone in the process. It ran as follows :
" there will be annuther sho of wonderful yuman beings actin waxworks so you cudent tell the difrrance tomorro the most wonderful acters of waxworks in the world no one can tell the diffrance