“It will be an awful job, and he is so happy I won’t plague him yet.  Guess I’ll go and put my room to rights first, and pick up some clean clothes to put on him, if he is alive after I get through with him,” thought Molly, foreseeing a stormy passage for the boy, who hated a bath as much as some people hate a trip across the Atlantic.

Up she went, and finding the fire out felt discouraged, thought she would rest a little more, so retired under the blankets to read one of the Christmas books.  The dinner-bell rang while she was still wandering happily in “Nelly’s Silver Mine,” and she ran down to find that Boo had laid out a railroad all across her neat room, using bits of coal for sleepers and books for rails, over which he was dragging the yellow sled laden with a dismayed kitten, the tailless dog, and the remains of the sausage, evidently on its way to the tomb, for Boo took bites at it now and then, no other lunch being offered him.

“Oh dear! why can’t boys play without making such a mess,” sighed Molly, picking up the feathers from the duster with which Boo had been trying to make a “cocky-doo” of the hapless dog.  “I’ll wash him right after dinner, and that will keep him out of mischief for a while,” she thought, as the young engineer unsuspiciously proceeded to ornament his already crocky countenance with squash, cranberry sauce, and gravy, till he looked more like a Fiji chief in full war-paint than a Christian boy.

“I want two pails of hot water, please, Miss Bat, and the big tub,” said Molly, as the ancient handmaid emptied her fourth cup of tea, for she dined with the family, and enjoyed her own good cooking in its prime.

“What are you going to wash now?”

“Boo—­I’m sure he needs it enough;” and Molly could not help laughing as the victim added to his brilliant appearance by smearing the colors all together with a rub of two grimy hands, making a fine “Turner” of himself.

“Now, Maria Louisa Bemis, you ain’t going to cut up no capers with that child!  The idea of a hot bath in the middle of the day, and him full of dinner, and croupy into the bargain!  Wet a corner of a towel at the kettle-spout and polish him off if you like, but you won’t risk his life in no bath-tubs this cold day.”

Miss Bat’s word was law in some things, so Molly had to submit, and took Boo away, saying, loftily, as she left the room,—­

“I shall ask father, and do it to-night, for I will not have my brother look like a pig.”

“My patience! how the Siamese do leave their things round,” she exclaimed, as she surveyed her room after making up the fire and polishing off Boo.  “I’ll put things in order, and then mend up my rags, if I can find my thimble.  Now, let me see;” and she went to exploring her closet, bureau, and table, finding such disorder everywhere that her courage nearly gave out.

She had clothes enough, but all needed care; even her best dress had two buttons off, and her Sunday hat but one string.  Shoes, skirts, books, and toys lay about, and her drawers were a perfect chaos of soiled ruffles, odd gloves, old ribbons, boot lacings, and bits of paper.