"Dips, dips," she repeated to herself. "Ted says I'm to ask for two or three dips. I wonder what dips is."
She had not the slightest idea, but it never occurred to her to do otherwise than exactly what her brother had said. It was a funny little figure that presented itself to the children's mother, in the twilight, just as she was putting away her work and thinking it was really time for Ted and Cissy to come in, a shawl wrapped round and tied behind over her white pinafore, of which the part that could be seen was by no means as clean as it might have been, any more than the eager flushed little face, with its bright dark eyes and wavy hair tumbling over the forehead.
"My dear Cissy, what a very dirty little girl you are," said her mother, laughing. "You really look more like a gipsy than anything else."
"Does dipsies live up trees?" inquired Cissy gravely. "Trees is rather dirty. But oh, mother, Ted wants me to ask you for two or three dips. P'ease give me zem."
"Dips," repeated her mother, "what in the world does he want dips for?"
"Cissy doesn't know," replied the little girl. "Cissy doesn't know what dips is. Cissy finks Ted said he would 'tick zem up on ze wall, to make it look pitty."
Her mother was very much amused.
"Dips are candles," she said. "I suppose Ted wants to light up the tree."
Her words made a light break over Cissy's face in the first place.
"Oh ses," said the little maiden, "it is getting so dark. Oh do give Ted some dips, dear mother—do, do."