Rising in the world

The painter had just finished putting a bright green coat of paint upon the low, flat roof of Miss Minerva’s long back-porch.  And he left his ladder leaning against the house while he went inside to confer with her in regard to some other work.

Billy, Jimmy, Frances, and Lina had been playing “Fox and Geese.”  Running around the house they spied the ladder and saw no owner to deny them.

‘Le’s clam’ up and get on top the porch,” suggested Jimmy.

“Aunt Minerva’ll put me to bed if I do,” said Billy.

“Mother’ll make me learn a whole page of the catechism if I climb a ladder,” said Lina.

“My mama’ll shut me up in the closet, but our mamas aren’t bound to know ’bout it,”—­this from Frances.  “Come on, let’s climb up.”

“I ain’t neverpromise not to clam’ no ladder but—­” Billy hesitated.

“You-all ’bout the skeeriest folks they is,” sneered Jimmy.  “Mama’ll whip me going and coming if she finds out ’bout it, but I ain’t skeered.  I dare anybody to dare me to clam’ up.”

“I dare you to climb this ladder,” responded an accommodating Frances.

“I ain’t never tooken a dare yet,” boasted the little boy proudly, his foot on the bottom rung.  “Who’s going to foller me?”

“Don’t we have fun?” cried a jubilant Frances.

“Yes,” answered Jimmy; “if grown folks don’t all time be watching you and sticking theirselfs in your way.”

“If people would let us alone,” remarked Lina, “we could enjoy ourselves every day.”

“But grown folks got to be so pertic’lar with you all time,” cried Jimmy, “they don’t never want us to play together.”

He led the way up the ladder, followed by Frances and Billy; and Lina brought up the rear.  The children ran the long length of the porch leaving their footprints on the fresh, sticky paint.

“Will it wash off?” asked Frances, looking gloomily down at her feet, which seemed to be encased in green moccasins.

At that moment she slipped and fell sprawling on top of the roof.  When the others helped her to her feet, she was a sight to behold, her white dress splotched with vivid green from top to bottom.

“If that ain’t jus’ like you, Frances,” Jimmy exclaimed; “you all time got to fall down and get paint on your dress so we can’t ’ceive nobody.  Now our mamas bound to know ’bout us clamming up here.”

“They would know it anyhow,” mourned Lina; “we’ll never get this paint off of our feet.  We had better get right down and see if we can’t wash some of it off.”

While they were talking the owner of the ladder, who had not noticed them—­and was deaf in the bargain—­had quietly removed it from the back-porch and carried it around to the front of the house.

The children looked at each other in consternation when they perceived their loss.

“What we goin’ to do now?” asked Billy.