“Dear me!” said Peterkin.
Whereupon Gredel, half-frightened herself, and partly indignant that her boy should be lamented over in this uncalled-for manner, said, “Would you be pleased to take a seat?”
“Certainly!” said Trot. “Still I, for one, would not think of such a thing until your stools were dusted.”
Gredel could not believe her eyes, for actually Trot raised one end of her stick and it became a brush, with which she dusted three stools.
“I think, too,” said Sister Pansy, looking out sharp through her spectacles, “that if we were to stop up that hole in the corner we should have less draught. As a rule, holes are bad things in a house.”
So off she went, and stopped up the hole with a handful of dried grass she took from a corner.
“Bless me!” said Satchel; “here are four pins on the floor!”
Whereupon she picked up the pins and popped them into her wallet. Meanwhile Gredel looked on, much astonished at these preceedings.
“I may as well have a rout while I am about it,” said Trot, beginning at once to sweep up.
“Cobwebs in every corner!” cried Pansy; and away she went, looking after the walls.