“See the nice sand, Trouble,” murmured Janet. “Look, you put it in this sifter and you jiggle it and all the nice little sand falls through. The big stones and little stones stay inside. Then you pick out all the stones and put them in a pile and you sift more sand. See!”
“Yep, I see,” murmured Trouble. “Let me shift sand.”
Janet gave him the sieve and filled it for him. He moved it to and fro and a little pile of fine sand grew in the shape of a pyramid. Trouble looked at the stones left in the sieve.
“What I do wif these?” he asked.
“Put ’em in a pile and then we’ll make believe they’re raisins and we’ll stick ’em in mud pies,” said Ted.
“Oh, I like to make mud pies!” cried Trouble, with shining eyes.
“Yes, but not now! Not now! After a while!” cried Janet quickly, for the little fellow seemed ready to drop the sieve. “What did you want to say that for?” she asked Ted, in a whisper. “You’ll spoil everything! Leave it to me!”
“Oh, all right,” mumbled Ted. “Go ahead! As soon as you can leave him alone come on over to the old well.”
“All right,” answered Janet. “Now, Trouble,” she went on, as she filled the sifter again, “shake this out and pick out all the stones. Put the big ones in a pile by themselves and the little ones in a pile by themselves.”
“Den we make mud pies,” laughed Trouble.