"A mop?"
"Yes; a bwoom 'thout any bwoom on it; only wags."
Katie knew what he meant in a minute; and soon her hair was flying in the wind, as she ran into the house for her handled mop. She looked first in the parlor, and then in the front hall; but at last she found it in the wash-room. She was very sly about it, for she was not sure Ruthie would approve of this kind of housework. Then Charlie tugged out a pail of water, and dipped in the mop; and between them both they thrust it through the opening of the pen, upon piggy's back. But the dirty creature did not love clean water. When he felt the mop coming down, he thought the sky was falling, and ran as fast as Chicken Little frightened by the rose-leaf.
It was of no use. The mop was wilful, and fell into the trough; and there it staid, though the children spent the rest of the forenoon in vain attempts to hook it out. When Ruthie went that noon to feed the pig, she found the trough choked with a mop, a hoe, a shovel, and several clothes-pins. She did not stop to inquire into the matter, but took the articles out, one by one, saying to herself, with a smile,—
"Some of that baby's work. I couldn't think what had become of my mop; she's enough to try the patience of Job. And now," added Ruth, throwing her apron over her head, "I may as well look up Miss Dimple. There's not a better child in the world than she is when she pleases; but deary me, when things do go wrong!"
Just then a wagon drove up to the gate, and Ruth said, as she saw a burly figure alight from it,—
"Why, that can't be Uncle Seth? I'm afraid something has happened at our house!"