"She's afraid you're goin' to hit her, like most ev'ry one does when they go nigh her," said the mother. "If I'd knowed you was comin' to-day, I'd have washed her, I guess."
"I'll do it myself now," said the father, "I've got the time."
"Why, you ain't ever done such a thing in your life, Sam!" said Mrs. Kimper, with a feeble giggle.
"More's the shame to me; but it's never too late to mend. When'll Billy get home, an' Tom?"
"Goodness knows; Billy gets kep' in so much, an' Tom plays hookey so often, that I don't ever expect either of 'em much 'fore supper-time. They talk of sendin' Tom to the Reform School if he don't stop."
"I'll have to stop him, then. I'll try it, anyway."
"It needs somebody that can wollup him harder'n I can; he's gettin' too big for my stren'th. Well, if here they don't both come! I don't know when I've seen them two boys together before, 'less they was fightin'. I wonder what's got into 'em to-day."
The two boys came through the back yard, eying the house curiously, Billy with wide open eyes, and Tom with a hang-dog leer from under the brim of his hat. Their father met them at the door and put his arms around both.
"Don't do that," said Tom, twitching away, "that sort o' thing's for women, an' gals an' babies."
"But I'm your dad, boy."