The trousers were so long that they had to cut off the legs, to allow their feet to come out at all, and the vests and coats were anything but a tight fit.
“This coat is too fat for me,” Cricket said, dubiously, studying the effect.
Eunice caught up a small pillow and stuffed it up behind Cricket’s back under the coat.
“But now I look hump-backed,” objected Cricket, twisting herself double to get a rear view.
“Never mind, we’ll play you are hump-backed,” returned Eunice, always ready of resource, as she patted the pillow into a nice, round hump. “We’ll play that we’re Italians, and you can be that poor little Pickaninny, or whatever his name was, that mamma read us about last night.”
“Then we’ll be tramps. Oh, let’s go out doors, and go round to the kitchen and scare cook!”
This proposal was received with applause by Eunice.
“Wait till I slip down stairs into papa’s office, Eunice,” Cricket suggested next, “and I’ll get some court-plaster to patch up our faces, and no one will ever know us. We’ll have piles of fun!”
Cricket was gone a long time, and came back giggling and breathless.
“I heard some one in the hall,” she said, “so I didn’t dare go down stairs, and I just got out of the bath-room window on to the office roof, and I climbed down the trellis and went in the office window, and just as I found the court-plaster case, I heard some one coming, so I had to run like fury, and I just flew out the window, and didn’t I skip up the trellis lively!” gasped Cricket, taking breath.