"Story, is it?" cried Pearlie in her wrath, as she took
the hair-brush from Patsey. "What time have I to be
thinkin' of stories and you that full of badness. My
heart is bruck wid ye."

"I'll be good now," Patsey said, penitently, sitting on
the wood-box, and tenderly feeling his skinned nose. "I
got hurt to-day, mind that, Pearlie."

"So ye did, poor bye," said Pearlie, her wrath all gone,
"and what will I tell yez about, my beauties?"

"The pink lady where Jimmy brings the milk," said Patsey
promptly.

"But it's me that's gettin' combed," wailed Danny. "I
should say what ye'r to tell, Pearlie."

"True for ye," said Pearlie, "Howld ye'r tongue, Patsey.
What will I tell about, honey?"

"What Patsey said'll do" said Danny with an injured air,
"and don't forget the chockalut drops she had the day ma
was there and say she sent three o' them to me, and you
can have one o' them, Pearlie."

"And don't forget the big plate o' potatoes and gravy
and mate she gave the dog, and the cake she threw in the
fire to get red of it," said Mary. who was knitting a
sock for Teddy.