"You'd better begin to pick up your duds right away,
for she wont want them cluttering round her front yard. If you are not
too tired, Ben, you might rake round a little while I shut the blinds.
I want things to look nice and tidy."
Two little groans went up from two afflicted little girls as they
looked about them at the shady bower, the dear porch, and the winding
walks where they loved to run "till their hair whistled in the wind,"
as the fairy-books say.
"Whatever shall we do! Our attic is so hot and the shed so small, and
the yard always full of hens or clothes. We shall have to pack all our
things away and never play any more," said Bab, tragically.
"May be Ben could build us a little house in the orchard," proposed
Betty, who firmly believed that Ben could do anything.
"He wont have any time. Boys don't care for baby-houses," returned Bab,
collecting her homeless goods and chattels with a dismal face.
"We sha'n't want these much when all the new things come; see if we
do," said cheerful little Betty, who always found out a silver lining
to every cloud.
CHAPTER VIII.
MISS CELIA'S MAN.
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