It seemed that there was to be a brief respite, however; for the Old
Woman turned to the steaming pot and began testing its contents with
great seriousness, lifting the ladle to her lips again and again, and
looking abstractedly far away into the forest.

In the meantime more of the children gathered around Everychild. A few
of the girls now joined their brothers. They looked at Everychild with
unconcealed admiration.

"What do you suppose she is going to do to you?" asked Everychild of
the group about him.

The first son replied to this: "I should think you'd know. Haven't you
been told how she whips us something terrible?"

Everychild inquired in amazement: "All of you?"

The first daughter now spoke. "All of us," she said. "Every last one
of us. That's just before she puts us to bed, you know."

"Of course--I remember now," said Everychild. "She 'whips you all
soundly.'"

"That's no word for it," declared the first son. "You know she's had
an awful lot of experience all these years. And there's so many of us."

He concluded this sentence in so meek a manner that Everychild
exclaimed indignantly, "I think it ought to be stopped. If I were you
. . . did you ever try hiding her whip?"