make of it, and I can't tell her, so I shall get some fun out of it,
any way," thought Molly, as she surveyed the dining-room the day
her mission began.

The prospect was not cheering; and, if the natives of Siam live in
such confusion, it is high time they were attended to. The
breakfast-table still stood as it was left, with slops of coffee on the
cloth; bits of bread, egg-shells, and potato-skins lay about, and one
lonely sausage was cast away in the middle of a large platter. The
furniture was dusty, stove untidy, and the carpet looked as if
crumbs had been scattered to chickens who declined their
breakfast. Boo was sitting on the sofa, with his arm through a hole
in the cover, hunting for some lost treasure put away there for safe
keeping, like a little magpie as he was. Molly fancied she washed
and dressed him well enough; but to-day she seemed to see more
clearly, and sighed as she thought of the hard job in store for her if
she gave him the thorough washing he needed, and combed out
that curly mop of hair.

"I'll clear up first and do that by and by. I ought to have a nice little
tub and good towels, like Mrs. Minot, and I will, too, if I buy them
myself," she said, piling up cups with an energy that threatened
destruction to handles.

Miss Bat, who was trailing about the kitchen, with her head pinned
up in a little plaid shawl, was so surprised by the demand for a pan
of hot water and four clean towels, that she nearly dropped her
snuff-box, chief comfort of her lazy soul.

"What new whimsey now? Generally, the dishes stand round till I