But when they arrived on the scene they found the victims hadn’t the least intention of going to bed.
“Sure, I’ll iron their bits of clothes dry,” said Old Mary, “an’ who’ll be the worse if they borry a few clothes from me ironin’ horse till the others are dry? The people that own ’em ’d never mind—I’ve an elegant trade in the washin’ of clothes, an’ there’s plenty to fit yez all on the horse.”
It was not half-past eleven yet, and the girls would not be going home for some hours, so there would be plenty of time for the things to dry. So Edith and Marie accepted Old Mary’s offer on the spot. Among the various family washes that she was doing were some things of their own. They managed to pick out enough dry clothing for all their needs—all but dresses. There were shirtwaists and blouses galore, but it was too early for many wash-skirts to be going to the laundress.
However, there was an ample red cotton wrapper, the property of Mary herself, which at least covered Marie. But Edith was little, and there was nothing which came near fitting her but an expensively trimmed white organdy party-dress, which Mary said frankly she did not feel she could lend.
“What shall I do?” asked Edith in desperation. “I can’t sit here all day till my dress dries!”
“I dunno, darlin’. Sure ’tis too bad. Wait a minute, though.” She hurried out of the room, and presently returned waving something blue. “If ye wouldn’t mind these overalls, now,” she said, “they’re just washed an’ ironed for little James Dempsey to wear. An’ the beauty of overalls is they fit anybody.”
“Overalls!” said Edith mournfully.
But overalls were better than a day in bed, and the end of it was, that out of Old Mary’s hospitable cottage walked a tall Irishwoman with two long braids over her trailing red wrapper, and a small Irishman with yellow curls over very baggy and much turned-up overalls, instead of neat Marie and fluffy Edith. They and Adelaide had put on dry stockings, and had many thicknesses of newspaper on their shoes till they could get to the fire to dry them.
“Good-mornin’!” said Marie cheerfully to her astonished friends, as she sailed majestically up to the freshly-made fire.
“Sure we’re the world-renowned vaudeville team, Hunter an’ Hillis.”