"Suppose so."
"Oh," cried Nell, clutching Molly ecstatically, "you wait and see the grease!"
They filled the bowl, then seized plates, big, little indiscriminately, and plunged them into the water.
"Oh, they'll make the pudding plates as greasy as the others. And they haven't thought of the dish-cloth."
Denis took a meat plate and bobbed it up and down in the water. The grease refused to come off. He bobbed energetically, and whistled "Widow Malone" airily.
Then Ted bent forward and heroically put forth a finger and rubbed. He made a long smear, and that was all.
We studied his finger disgustedly. Nell tripped across to he fireplace, lifted the steaming kettle, and carried it to the scullery door.
Ted was valiantly rubbing now with two fingers.
"Denis! Ted!"
They saw a pompous, steaming kettle, hot, inviting.