She lifted the ladle from the pot.  She pressed one hand to her bosom and with the other lifted the ladle to her lips, testing the stew.  There was a thoughtful look in her eyes.  Then she continued: 

“As for living in a shoe . . . there’s plenty of females that live in two.  Always on the go, they’re that restless.  I tell my undergrowth it’s no more disgrace to live in one shoe than in two, so long as you’ve got one that’s big enough.”

[Illustration:  “As for living in a shoe . . . there’s plenty of females that live in two.”]

She seemed so pleased with this remark that she had to stir the pot vigorously, as a relief to her emotions.

There was a surprising interruption just here.  The Masked Lady and Mr. Literal were there, after all, standing close behind Everychild.  And Mr. Literal was saying:  “She seems to be a bit of a cynic.  That reference to women on the go . . . what period should you say she belongs to?”

“To every period,” said the Masked Lady.  After which, fortunately, they remained silent.  “And your children,” said Everychild.  “I don’t see them anywhere.”

“They’ll be here soon enough.  I hire ’em out by the day—­the boys.  I tell ’em if they won’t work for me I’ll put ’em under masters who’ll make ’em work.  They gather fagots—­the boys.  The girls are in the house.  They did the wash to-day and I keep ’em under my eye until it’s time to take the clothes in.  Nothing like keeping a girl under your eye if you want to know where she is.”

She got up with an air of great industry and went to the line where the wash was hanging.

She tried the garments with her hand.  It seemed they were now dry enough to be taken in.  She stepped to the bell suspended from the tree and struck it sharply with a little mallet which had been provided for this purpose.

Wonder of wonders!—­the top of the shoe began to overflow with girls!  They were rather carelessly dressed, and there was hair in their eyes—­they took after their mother in this matter—­but being young, they were all fresh and blooming in a way.

They could leave the shoe only one at a time.  They began descending the ladder in a sort of procession.  You would have thought the last one would never make her appearance.

They paid very little attention to Everychild.  They began taking in the wash.  Some held their arms out to receive the clothes which others removed from the line.  They took the line down the last thing of all.  They wound it up carefully.

Just at this time there were stealthy movements all about the house, as if robbers were coming.  From among the trees the boys began to steal home.  They came from various directions, all walking on tip-toe.  Many of them hung back fearfully, though two of them found courage enough to come up close to Everychild.

“You must be the boys coming home,” said Everychild.