for the third of this little party, Miss Parcher's visitor, those
peregrinating legs suggested nothing familiar to her.

"Oh, see the fun-ee laundrymans!" she cried, addressing a cottony
doglet's head that bobbed gently up and down over her supporting arm.
"Sweetest Flopit must see, too! Flopit, look at the fun-ee laundrymans!"

"'Sh!" murmured Miss Parcher, choking. "He might hear you."

He might, indeed, since they were not five yards behind him and the
dulcet voice was clear and free. Within the shadowy interior of the
clothes-boiler were features stricken with sudden, utter horror.
"FLOPIT!"

The attention of Genesis was attracted by a convulsive tugging of the
tub which he supported in common with William; it seemed passionately to
urge greater speed. A hissing issued from the boiler, and Genesis caught
the words, huskily whispered:

"Walk faster! You got to walk faster."

The tub between them tugged forward with a pathos of appeal wasted upon
the easy-going Genesis.

"I got plenty time cut 'at grass befo' you' pa gits home," he said,
reassuringly. "Thishere rope what I got my extry tub slung to is 'mos'
wo' plum thew my hide."

Having uttered this protest, he continued to ambulate at the same pace,
though somewhat assisted by the forward pull of the connecting tub, an