"Is that your idea of tidying?" he asked.
"Yes; put 'em all together, and then you know what you have to do, and can act accordingly."
"I should think so! Act! all I can say is, I'd rather it was you than me."
"How do you do it then?" asked Hugh hopelessly, watching his brother step back to his own precincts.
"I take out one thing after another, and put those I want on the bed—so, and tear up and burn what I don't want."
"And a nice smell you make!" said Hugh, laughing.
"Eh? oh, well, that's what a fire's for, to air the room."
"With a vengeance. I wish Agnes could have found us a large rag of some sort."
"You'd have been for ever playing pranks behind it, and peeping through the holes of your 'rag;' I'm not sorry on the whole she could not."
"I shouldn't have. However, that's neither here nor there. I'm going up to the attics to find my hammer; I believe Agnes has put it away tidily."