When he had done them to his satisfaction, he took them upstairs.
"What horrid, dirty looking things!" Amy exclaimed, in disgust.
"They are clean enough inside, child. They are quite new; but I have been dirtying them, outside, to make them look natural.
"You must be dressed by half past eleven, and you can tuck your hair up under that red nightcap; but you must manage to dirty your face, neck, and hands. You really ought to have some brown stain, but I don't suppose it is to be got. I will speak to Mr. Parrot."
"There is no stain, that I know of," Mr. Parrot said; "but I know Mr. Logie paints a little. I think you will find a box of colours, upstairs. If you mix some Vandyke brown in water, and paint her with it, and let it dry on, I should think it would do very well; though of course, it wouldn't stand washing."
Bob found the paintbox, and soon mixed some paint. At half past eleven Amy came into the room, laughing a little shyly.
"That will do very well," Bob said, encouragingly, "except that you are a great deal too fair and clean.
"Look here, I have been mixing some paint. I think a wash of that will make all the difference. Now, sit down while I colour you.
"That will do capitally!" he said, when he finished. "I think, when it dries, it will be just about the right shade for a Spanish sailor boy.
"Have you got your bundle?