“Seems to be a kind of drill,” murmured the Judge to himself. “Well, if it pleases them and doesn’t last too long I won’t complain. I wonder how many of my neighbors are up?” and he calmly scanned the windows of the house next door.
Two maids were behind the curtains. The Tingsbys evidently amused them.
Mrs. Tingsby had been holding the baby in her arms when the Judge arrived. Now he stood on his own young feet, and with admirable intelligence was taking his part in the maneuvers.
“Hands out, Tingsbys!” said the little woman.
Every Tingsby child stretched out its arms—Dobbie, Gibb, Goldie, Rodd, and Annie.
“Mitts off!” commanded the mother.
Every child bared his or her hands.
Mrs. Tingsby turned to the Judge. “See them finger nails, sir. Every one of ’em to be worked off for you.”
The Judge shivered slightly.
“In case you needs it,” she continued, with emphasis. “Now, children, your catechism. Question one: Who came down like a sheep to the fold and swooped little Bethany away to a lovely home?”