Mrs. Mulvaney began on poor Stubbins. He was plump and given to stumbling anyway, but by the time his mother had squeezed him into two suits and three overcoats of various sizes, he could scarcely wiggle, nor could he bend his arms.
"I'll tie up a little bundle of stuff for you to carry in one hand," said Mrs. Mulvaney, "and you can take the clothes-stick in the other. It's too good to leave behind. Now don't you stir," she continued, "until the others are ready."
"Well, ma," grumbled Stubbins, "I couldn't sthir if I wanted to. I sthick out all around ith like a pig. I thay! I'm too warm!"
Mike laughed at Stubbins, so Mrs. Mulvaney chose him for the next victim. He quickly felt and looked like his little brother.
"You can take the kerosene can in one hand, and the dishpan in the other," said Mrs. Mulvaney. Then Mike felt worse than Stubbins, but protest was useless. He had to carry the kerosene can and the old dishpan.
Johnnie looked too pleased, whereupon he was taken in hand,—"rigged out," as his mother said. "You can carry the wash-board," she went on, "it's almost as good as new; I don't care what the second-hand man had to say."
"Oh, ma," besought Johnnie, "let Chinky carry the wash-board, he's bigger. I might fall and break it."
Mrs. Mulvaney was so in the habit of spanking Johnnie she began as usual, before she thought how well padded he was.
"Thay, ma, you'll have to thlap him," advised Stubbins. "He ith only got hith fathe."
"Lucky for once," chuckled Mike. Even Mrs. Mulvaney laughed.