“None that shoot,” laughed Mrs. Pitney. “There are a lot of old-fashioned things there, though, that you may play with,” she added. “I’ll light a lamp and hang it in a safe place where they can’t knock it over, for it will be dark before long, and it’s never very light in the attic, at best,” she told Mrs. Martin. “Let them play in the attic.”
CHAPTER VIII
FUN IN THE ATTIC
With whoops of delight that made the old farmhouse ring, the Curlytops and Trouble hurried after Mrs. Pitney. She smiled and laughed with them.
“I’m afraid they’ll make you a lot of work,” said Mrs. Martin.
“Oh, I love children,” was the answer. “I have raised a family of them myself. They won’t do any harm. There’s nothing in the attic that can be damaged. And if the older ones will look after their little brother, there will be no trouble.”
“That’s his name,” said Janet, with a laugh.
“Whose name?” asked Mrs. Pitney.
“His,” and Janet pointed to William. “He’ll get into trouble if there’s any way at all.”
“He chained the auto fast and went to sleep on the hay wagon,” added Ted, as they climbed the attic stairs.
“Maybe—now—maybe I did,” admitted Trouble, who always got his words a little mixed when he was excited. “But now I didn’t—I—er—now—I didn’t lost ma’s diamond locket like you did, Jan!” he cried.