"What are you going to wash now?"

"Boo--I'm sure he needs it enough;" and Molly could not help
laughing as the victim added to his brilliant appearance by
smearing the colors all together with a rub of two grimy hands,
making a fine "Turner" of himself.

"Now, Maria Louisa Bemis, you ain't going to cut up no capers
with that child! The idea of a hot bath in the middle of the day, and
him full of dinner, and croupy into the bargain! Wet a corner of a
towel at the kettle-spout and polish him off if you like, but you
won't risk his life in no bath-tubs this cold day."

Miss Bat's word was law in some things, so Molly had to submit,
and took Boo away, saying, loftily, as she left the room,--

"I shall ask father, and do it to-night, for I will _not_ have my
brother look like a pig."

"My patience! how the Siamese do leave their things round," she
exclaimed, as she surveyed her room after making up the fire and
polishing off Boo. "I'll put things in order, and then mend up my
rags, if I can find my thimble. Now, let me see;" and she went to
exploring her closet, bureau, and table, finding such disorder
everywhere that her courage nearly gave out.

She had clothes enough, but all needed care; even her best dress
had two buttons off, and her Sunday hat but one string. Shoes,
skirts, books, and toys lay about, and her drawers were a perfect
chaos of soiled ruffles, odd gloves, old ribbons, boot lacings, and