"It's no such a thing!" shouted Willy. "I didn't do it, and I'm dead, too. Ugh! I'm all bludge. Get the red oil!"
Cynthia had witnessed the scene from the window, and appeared just in time with the bottle of red oil, the panacea for all the Franklin bumps and bruises.
"What were you doing, you naughty children?" said Edith, as she wiped the "bludge" from Willy's lips, and found that it came from a very small scratch, while Janet was scarcely hurt at all.
"We were only playing cars, and Willy would ride on the engine, and made it topple over, and—"
"It's no such a thing!" interposed Willy. "Girls don't know nothin' 'bout steam-cars, and Janet went and put her feet on the back of my chair, and—"
He was interrupted by a blow from Janet's small fat fist, which he immediately returned in kind, and then both began to scream.
"Yon are both as bad as you can be, and I've a good mind to send you to bed," said Edith, severely, shaking Janet as she spoke.
Janet cast herself upon Cynthia. "Edith's horrid to us! She is so cross. Cynthia, don't let her send us to bed. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hit Willy; I'm sorry we upset the chairs; I'm sorry for everything."
"Well, here comes the horse, and I must go," said Edith. "Oh, look at my basket!"
And it was indeed a sight. Spools, scissors, china eggs, stockings, everything lay in wild confusion on the floor.