“But, Nora! What was it?”
“Oh, nothin’; only William pulled a big pan full of milk over on himself. I was goin’ to make junket of it, but now Turnover is lappin’ it up. It’s all right; she hadn’t had her supper yet, and the milk’ll do her good.”
CHAPTER III
AT CHERRY FARM
Ted and Jan rushed to the kitchen. In the middle of the floor, in the center of a pool of milk that flowed all about him like a little lake, sat Trouble, a look of surprise on his chubby face. Near him was a pan that had held the milk. It had bounced right side up after having been pulled from the table, and a little milk had remained in it. This milk a maltese cat was now lapping up.
“Oh, Trouble!” cried Ted.
“And you spilled the nice milk!” added Jan. “And you’re all wet again! Oh, Trouble Martin!”
“He’s wet, sure enough,” said Nora, who did not seem at all angry at the mess in her kitchen. “There was nigh two quarts of milk in the pan. I was goin’ to make it into junket, but the baby got ahead of me.” She laughed. Nora could laugh easily.
“Oh, my dear Trouble!” cried Mother Martin. “How did it happen?”
“He just got hold of the table oilcloth and pulled on it when I wasn’t lookin’,” explained Nora. “The pan of milk came with it.”
“Oh, Trouble!” said Mrs. Martin with a sigh, “when will you ever learn not to pull things?”