“I hope what you brought us is real nice,” remarked Budge, “for ’twas awful hard work to make that rockery. I guess I never was so tired in all my life. Mamma’s is on a big box, but we couldn’t find any boxes anywhere, an’ we couldn’t find the servants to ask ’em. That ain’t the kind of datura that has flowers just like pretty vases, but papa says it’s more healthy than the tame kind. The ferns look kind o’s thirsty, but I couldn’t see how to water ’em without wettin’ the carpet, so I thought I’d wait till you came home, and ask you about it.”
There was a sudden rustle of silken robes and two little boys found themselves alone. When, half an hour later, Mr. Burton returned from the city, he found his wife more reticent than he had ever known her to be, while two workmen with market baskets were sifting dust upon his hall-carpets and making a stone-heap in the gutter in front of the house.
CHAPTER II
On the morning of the second day of Mrs. Burton’s experiment, the aunt of Budge and Toddie awoke with more than her usual sense of the responsibility and burden of life. Her husband’s description of a charming lot of bric-à-brac and pottery soon to be sold at auction did not stimulate as much inquiry as such announcements usually did, and Mrs. Burton’s cook did not have her usual early morning visit from her watchful mistress. Mrs. Burton was wondering which of her many duties to her nephews should be first attended to; but, as she wondered long without reaching any conclusion an ever-sympathizing Providence came to her assistance, for the children awoke and created such a hubbub directly over her head that she speedily determined that reproof was the first thing in order. Dressing hastily, she went up to the chamber of the innocents, and learned that the noise was occasioned by a heavy antique center-table, which was flying back and forth across the room, the motive power consisting of two pairs of sturdy little arms.
“Hullo, Aunt Alice!” said Budge. “I awful glad you came in. The table’s a choo-choo, you know, an’ my corner’s New York an’ Tod’s is Hillcrest, an’ he’s ticket-agent at one place an’ I at the other. But the choo-choo hasn’t got any engineer, an’ we have to push it, an’ it isn’t fair for ticket-agents to do so much work besides their own. Now you can be engineer. Jump on!”
The extempore locomotive was accommodatingly pushed up to Mrs. Burton with such force as to disturb her equilibrium, but she managed to say:
“Do you do this way with your mamma’ guest-chamber furniture?”
“No,” said Toddie, “’cause why, ’pare-chamber’h always lockted. B’ides dat, papa once tookted all de wheels off our tables—said tables wash too restless.”
“Little boys,” said Mrs. Burton, returning the table to its place, “should never use things which belong to other people without asking permission. Nor should they ever use anything, no matter who it belongs to, in any way but that in which it was made to be used. Did either of you ever see a table on a railroad?”