obeyed; and a certain amount of hustling and grumbling ensued, which
betrayed a rather quarrelsome tendency.

At last, however, the large circle was formed, and the bright
firelight danced over sunny curls and eager faces. Aunt Judy glanced
her eye round the group; but whatever her opinion as an artist might
have been of its general beauty, she was by no means satisfied with
the result of her inspection.

"No. 6 and No. 7," cried she, "you are not fit to listen to a story
at present. You have come with dirty hands."

No. 6 frowned, and No. 7 broke out at once into a howl; he had washed
his hands ever so short a time ago, and had done nothing since but
play at knuckle-bones on the floor! Surely people needn't wash their
hands every ten minutes! It was very hard!

Aunt Judy had rather a logical turn of mind, so she set about
expounding to the "little ones" in general, and to Nos. 6 and 7 in
particular, that the proper time for washing people's hands was when
their hands were dirty; no matter how lately the operation had been
performed before. Such, at least, she said, was the custom in
England, and everyone ought to be proud of belonging to so clean and
respectable a country. She, therefore, insisted that Nos. 6 and 7
should retire up-stairs and perform the necessary ablution, or
otherwise they would be turned out, and not allowed to listen to the
story.

Nos. 6 and 7 were rather restive. The truth was, it had been one of
those unlucky days which now and then will occur in families, in