"Why, I do need a man to do odd jobs," said Miss Putnam quite mildly. "Is he very strong?"
You see, she hadn't listened very carefully to Sister, or else she didn't stop to think—no man wants shoes to wear to school.
"Yes'm, he's pretty strong," Sister assured her earnestly. "He's eight years old and big for his age."
"Eight years old!" echoed Miss Putnam. "Why, that's a mere BABY! What can such a child do to earn money?"
"Mickey can run errands and sweep and weed the garden," recited Brother, gaining confidence since Miss Putnam neither shouted at them nor chased them from her house. "He can dry dishes, too—he says he does 'em for his mother."
Miss Putnam thought for a few moments.
"I'm going to need someone to do errands for me this winter when I can't get around," she said slowly. "And I've about broke my back in the garden this summer. But boys are noisy, careless creatures—I don't know as I could stand a boy around me."
"Oh, Mickey is nice," Sister hastened to explain. "He's going to grow up and support his mother. He won't make any more noise than he can help."
Miss Putnam smiled grimly.
"I guess that's true," she said. "Well, tell your Mickey to come round and see me, and if he doesn't charge too much, perhaps we can suit each other."