The billiard room, though not now used for its original purpose, was large and pleasant.

There was not much furniture in it, but a cushioned seat ran nearly all round the room with many pillows on it.
As soon as they were fairly in the room, Marjorie picked up a soft and fluffy pillow, and tossed it at her grandfather, hitting him squarely in the back of the neck.
The others were a little frightened at Marjorie's audacity, and Grandpa Maynard himself was startled as the pillow hit him.

But as he turned and saw Marjorie's laughing face, he entered into the spirit of the game, and in a moment pillows were flying among the four, and shouts of merriment accompanied the fun.
Grandpa Maynard took off his glasses, and put them in his pocket for safekeeping, and soon he was the merriest one of all.
But suddenly he recollected that it was time for him to attend to his own duties as host.
"You young rascals," he said, "I don't know how you inveigled me into this disgraceful performance! Here I am all dishevelled, and in a few moments I must preside at dinner!" "Oh, you're all right," said Marjorie, patting his necktie; "just brush your hair over again, and put your glasses on, and you'll look fine.

And we're much obliged to you, Grandpa, for playing so jolly with us." "Well, well; I'm surprised at myself! But remember this kind of play is only to be indulged in when you're up here.

When you're downstairs, you must be polite and quiet-mannered, or else Grandma won't be pleased." "All right," said Marjorie.