“Now, children, you can collect the articles that you cannot do without,” said Mrs. Rowe, after the trunk had been placed before the unused grate. “The necessary articles must be put in first, for we sha’n’t have room for everything you’d like.”
Kirke immediately brought his tennis-racket, his foot-ball, and his jointed fishing-rod, and flung them into the trunk.
“I must have my tool-box, too, mamma, and the ship I’m rigging, and”—
“Any clothes, Kirke?” interrupted Molly mischievously, as she appeared with an armful of bathing-suits.
Kirke had not thought of clothes; and when these had been hunted up, and laid smoothly over the bathing-suits, he grudged them the space they occupied.
But his mamma did not let him remain idle.
“You may get the hammock next, Kirke, and papa’s afghan and pillows.”
Kirke skipped down-stairs two steps at a time, and speedily returned with the hammock slung over his shoulder, and bulging in a very peculiar manner.
“Here’s a big hang-bird’s nest, mamma. It has one wee bird in it. Do you want to see the fellow hop?”
“O Kirke! what made you bring Donald here now?” said Mrs. Rowe, with a vexed laugh, as Kirke spilled his baby brother at her feet.