“Wake up, sleepers!” she said cheerfully.  “The sun has been up this long while.  There is only one washstand, but you can take turns at it; and there is a pitcher of cool fresh water.  Now make yourselves neat as quickly as possible that you may be ready for breakfast.”

She returned to the kitchen and presently the odor of frying sausage and steaming coffee floated into the room, and a little later the triplets stood beside Mrs. Steiner, neat, refreshed and in splendid spirits.

“Pixy has been trying to take a bath in the pan of fresh water that I set out for the birds,” said Mrs. Steiner, “and as he could not get into it, he dipped a foot in as does a cat.  All animals try to be clean if we give them the chance.  Take that largest tin basin, Fritz, fill it with water, dip this dust brush in it, and wash him.  It will answer almost as well as if he were put in a tub.  See, he seems to understand what I am saying and wags his tail as if to say, ’yes, little mother, all animals love a bath, and would be clean if given the chance.’”

The boys hurried away and gave Pixy his bath which he certainly enjoyed, and had just finished when Mrs. Steiner called them to breakfast.  They were about to take their places when Mrs. Steiner asked Fritz if he had not forgotten something.

“No, Aunt Steiner, I cannot think of anything that I have forgotten,” he said.

“Go back to the kitchen, dear, and you will see Pixy’s dish with bits of bread in it, softened and made richer by having some of the sausage gravy upon it.  He smelled it, as did you while it was cooking, and we must not disappoint him.  Go set his breakfast on the porch for him, and then we will have ours.”

This was done, and all took seats, the blessing was asked, and then Mrs. Steiner in her pleasant way called attention to the pure white linen tablecloth.

“You see, boys,” she said, “that it is white and spotless; and you perhaps do not know how much labor there is in placing even one piece of washing in this fine condition.  Now, I wish one of you to pour the coffee, and pass the cups around without spilling any.”

“Let me pour it, Aunt Fanny,” said Fritz, and he poured a cupful for each person and passed it without spilling a drop, while Aunt Steiner served the sausage.

Then Fritz poured his own coffee, and in passing it to his place he noticed a tiny stain at Paul’s plate.  Immediately a discussion arose between them as to who was to blame in the matter.

“Never mind,” said Mrs. Steiner soothingly, “I am satisfied that the whole cup of coffee has not flowed over the cloth.  We will cover the stain with the mantle of love and charity in the shape of a clean napkin.”

It was such a satisfaction to Fritz to see it hidden that he was ready to ask a question.

“Aunt Fanny,” he said, “where are we to go to-day?”

“Every place is new to you, and you can go where you prefer, but on horses that do not eat oats.”