"I told you to go slowly," said Grandfather. "Now look at the cart, and see what you've done by not minding, spoiled your best clothes and Kat's, and spilled the milk! Go back to Grandmother."
"But I couldn't mind twice at one time," said Kit. "I was minding about not letting go."
"Oh dear," sobbed Kat, "I wish we were four and a half feet high now! If we were, this never would have happened."
Grandfather took the dogs and went on to Vrouw de Vet's, without another word.
The Twins took each other's hands, and walked back to Grandmother's house. Quite a number of little boys and girls in wooden shoes clattered along with them. Grandmother heard all the noise, and ran to the door to see what was the matter.
"Laws a mercy me, I told you so!" she cried, the moment she saw them. "Look at your clothes! See how you've torn them!"
"I can't see the holes in mine," said Kit.
"But I can," said Kat. And then all the children talked at once; and what with wooden shoes and the tongues all going, Grandmother clapped her hands over her ears to shut out the noise. Then she took Kit and Kat into the kitchen and shut the door. She put on her glasses and got down on the floor so she could see better.
Then she turned Kit and Kat all around and looked at the holes. "O! my soul!" she said. She took off the aprons and the torn clothes and put the Twins to bed while she mended.
She got out a pair of Grandfather's oldest velveteen breeches that had been patched a great deal, and found a good piece to patch with. Then she patched the holes in Kit's breeches so neatly that one had to look very carefully indeed to see that there had ever been any holes there at all.