“Sarah,” said Mrs. Merton, “here is a little girl who is going to stay with me, and help about the house. You may take her upstairs, and show her how to help you make the beds.”
If Tom had been in her street costume, Sarah would have preferred to dispense with her assistance, but she looked quite civilized and respectable now, and she accepted the offer. Tom accompanied her upstairs to the second floor. The first chamber was that of Mr. Craven,—a gentleman in business down town. It was of course vacant, therefore.
Tom looked about her curiously.
“Now,” said Sarah, “do you know anything about making beds?”
“No,” said Tom.
“Then stand on one side, and I will tell you what to do.”
Tom followed directions pretty well, but, as the task was about finished, an impish freak seized her, and she caught the pillow and threw it at Sarah’s head, disarranging that young lady’s hair, and knocking out a comb.
“What’s that for?” demanded Sarah, angrily.
Tom sat down and laughed boisterously.
“It’s bully fun!” she said. “Throw it at me.”