"Now you scour, while I get supper," he said.

Peaches did her best. Mickey locked her in and went after more milk. He
wanted to add several extras, but remembering the awful hole the dollar
had made in his finances, he said grimly: "No-sir-ee! With a family to
keep, and likely to need a doctor at any time and a Carrel back to buy,
there's no frills for Mickey. Seeing what she ain't had, she ought to be
thankful for just milk."

So he went back, lifted Peaches from the tub and laid her on the floor,
where he dried her with the sheet. Then he put the nightdress over her
head, she slipped her arms in the sleeves, and he stretched her on his
bed. She was so lost in the garment he tied a string under her arms to
hold it, and cut off the sleeves at her elbows. The pieces he saved for
washcloths. Mickey spread his sheet over her, rolled the bed before the
window where she could have air, see sky and housetops, then brought her
supper. It was a cup of milk with half the bread broken in, and a banana.
Peaches was too tired to eat, so she drank the milk while Mickey finished
the remainder. Then he threw her rags from the window, and spread his
winter covers on the floor for his bed. Soon both of them were asleep.



CHAPTER II


_Moccasins and Lady Slippers_


"No messenger boy for those," said Douglas Bruce as he handed the florist