"There, there, Rachel, eat your dinner, child," broke in Mrs. Henderson quickly. "And, boys, don't talk any more. You must get through dinner, for I have to go to Miss Bedlow's by two o'clock," and she got out of her chair and began to clear the table.
So all that was to be heard now in the parsonage kitchen was the pleasant rattle of knives and forks, and the bustle of clearing up, and presently the children hopped out of their chairs and began to help Mrs. Henderson to set everything in order.
"I'm goin' to wash every single thing up," announced Rachel, hurrying for the mop.
"Can you, dear?" asked the parson's wife. She was very tired, and yet had the funeral of the old parishioner to attend. But the risk seemed great of allowing the new little girl to do up all the dinner dishes. "There are a great many of them, and some of them are big"—glancing doubtfully around the piles. "Are you sure you can manage them?"
"Why, yes," declared Rachel in scorn, "I can do 'em all just as easy!" She stopped to snap her fingers at the greasy plates, then ran over to get the big teakettle on the stove in a twinkling.
"Let Peletiah carry that for you," said Mrs. Henderson.
"He's so slow," said Rachel, but she stopped obediently.
"Rachel, there is one thing"—and the parson's wife came over and put her hand on the thin little shoulder—"we all help each other in this house, and we never talk against one."
"Oh," said Rachel.
Peletiah by this time had advanced on the teakettle, and, as soon as he could, he bore it off and solemnly poured a goodly supply of boiling-hot water into the waiting dishpan.