Here he pointed a finger at Charlie, who emitted a roar of delight.
"An' can I shovel with my little snow-shovel? Can I?"
The professor poured for himself another cup of coffee. "You are to have the felicity of shoveling with your little snow-shovel, Charlie. See that you do good work with it. And Sally shall take the _middle-sized_ snow-shovel, and I will take the GREAT BIG snow-shovel."
Another roar from Charlie, who began to eat faster.
"This coffee, Sally," continued the professor, "would be better if the storm had been less severe. But it does very well. It is most excellent coffee. It is probably better for my health than it would be with cream. For, do you know, Sally, I am well convinced that cream with coffee forms quite another substance, which is deleterious to health and destructive of the ability to sleep, although affecting in no way the desire to do so. And that, Sally, is most unpleasant."
Professor Ladue was speaking in his lecture-room voice and very seriously. Sally was smiling. As he finished, the smile grew into a chuckle and she choked. Charlie, having taken an extraordinarily large mouthful, and being diverted from the ensuing process by the choking of Sally, also choked.
"Sally," said the professor calmly, "your little brother needs your attention. He needs it rather badly, it seems to me." For Charlie had his mouth open and was getting red in the face.
Sally got up hastily and pounded Charlie on the back. That measure being ineffective, she shook him violently. He gasped twice.
The professor looked surprised. "An eating race, Charlie?" he asked. "Why, my dear boy, I shouldn't stand a ghost of a chance with you. We might make it a handicap, but, even then--"
"Shoveling race," Charlie explained. "You have the great big snow-shovel an' Sally have the middle-sized shovel an' I have the little snow-shovel, an' we race to see who can get the most done."
"Brilliant idea, Charlie, positively glittering," his father returned. "But it would hardly be fair to start us all from scratch, I am afraid. Better make it a handicap, eh?"
"Yes," Charlie replied, not knowing in the least what a handicap was.
Neither did Sally. "What is a handicap, father?" she asked.
"Oh," she said, approving, "then it makes the race fair, doesn't it? Every one has as much chance of winning as everybody else. I think that is nice."