"He's worse than a baby," said Eunice, unwinding herself from the comfortable, twisted-up position in the steamer chair, which she loved. "Couldn't you let him cry a little while and give him a lesson?"
"I wouldn't mind giving him a lesson, but I'm afraid he'd give me one in patience," returned Cricket, laughing. "I'm sure I don't want to listen to that music long. There, he's stopped again, now."
But five minutes later, George W. renewed his complaints.
"Now I'm going to let him cry!" said Cricket, returning in despair from another search. So down she sat, shutting her ears to outside sounds in her comfortable fashion.
Presently grandma appeared at the hall door.
"Cricket, my dear, George Washington seems to want something. Don't you think you'd better try and find him?"
"Grandma, he's been crying and weeping for an hour at least, and I just can't find him. But I'll look again."
But wherever George W. was, he was certainly securely hidden. He cried now and then at intervals, but it was impossible to locate the sound, since it came first from one side, then from another.
"He's between the floors somewhere," said Will, who had joined the search. "The question is, where?"
"We'll have to decide that question at once," said auntie, "because we can scarcely have all the floors in the house taken up. How could he have gotten in?"