"They're fixin' the magic lantern," said the twins, as the children stood three or four deep outside the door.
"P'r'aps tabberlows," ventured little Edith, remembering her success at the Child's Hospital benefit, and determining to stay within call all afternoon.
"Listen," advised the twins.
"Shakspeare here," they heard in Hugh's voice, "and Dickens there. That's just exactly as they were."
"It's tabberlows," sobbed tired Edith on nurse's shoulder, as they all went up for an afternoon nap.
"Yes," said the twins, as they toiled up the stairs after her. "We remember that very one."
It was about four o'clock when Mrs. Oliver came to the door. "What is going on?" she inquired. "Can not you let me in? I've some news for you."
"We're just about through," they called, and a moment later opened the door.
The mother's face expressed just the surprise and pleasure the boys had looked for.
"If you knew how I had been dreading it," said Mrs. Oliver, after they had talked it all over, "I could give you some idea of the relief I feel. I'd been thinking that I must send for Mrs. Sanleitner, and give a day right up to it, have every book taken out, the shelves dusted, and—But you've done it all," her eyes again on the boys' work of a few hours past; "and now that the children are asleep, Bridget can come in with her chamois, and polish the doors."