CHAPTER XIV
A PATENT DISH-WASHING
"OH, my!" sighed Mary Frances, gazing at the great pile of dirty dishes on the kitchen table, where she had carried them after the company had gone. "Oh, my, cooking is fun—but washing dishes is another thing. I'm 'most tired enough to drop,—and there must be a hundred dishes to do! I'm glad Tea Kettle is full of hot water."
"Bubble! Bubble! Piff! Piff!" puffed Tea Kettle, mys-ter-i-ous-ly smiling as though he knew something was about to happen.
Mary Frances couldn't see anything very pleasing with so much of a task before her.
She put the large dish pan on the table and poured in the water, whirling the soap around in it several times to make it a little sudsy.
Then she sat down to rest.
"Really, I didn't know I was so tired," she thought; "maybe my age is telling on me the way Aunt Maria says!"
Her weary little head began to nod, and she was soon fast asleep. She hadn't been asleep long before she was aroused by a great racket.
"Click, clack! Click-ety-clack! Splash!"
"Come," she said to herself, rather sharply, "I do believe you've been asleep, Mary Frances! You'd better get to work, child."
"Click! Clack!"
Again came the sound.
With her sleepy lids half open she glanced toward the table, and such a sight she never saw! She sat up with mouth and eyes wide open, but nobody paid any attention to her.
There were the dishes jumping higgledy-piggledy, pell-mell into the dish pan.
First a cup, followed by a saucer, then a spoon, followed by a fork.
"Make room for me," cried Platter, diving in head first.
"Look out, or you'll chip me," cried Tea Cup, tumbling out on the other side of the pan.
"I'm next!" a big dinner plate splashed in "kerplunk."
Mary Frances couldn't say a word—she was so afraid they might break their heads.
"Ouw! this is hot!" screamed Little Pitcher.
All the other Kitchen People were looking on and laughing. Aunty Rolling Pin was rocking to and fro, laughing so hard the tears were rolling down her cheeks.
When Yellow Bowl bounced into the water, "Chase yourself!" cried Soup Ladle, making hard after.
In less time than it takes to tell, the dishes were all clean, and had piled themselves up neatly on the table.
Then Mary Frances realized what had happened.
"That was a patent dish-washing," she said. "I don't want you to do that often. I was afraid my mother's china would be broken all to pieces! But I am very much obliged, this time, I'm sure."
