At this moment, Aunt Carrie came into the room. They wished it had been grandmamma, for she never laid the least restriction on their sports, but smiled on every request and allowed them to do exactly as they pleased.
"Now, boys," said Aunt Carrie, "where are you going?"
"Only into the garret, auntie."
"Be sure to leave things exactly as you find them," she replied, with a laugh and a little groan.
"We always do, Aunt Carrie."
Away they went, with Gyp at their heels, and every footstep resounded through the old house until they reached the upper floor.
"It is no wonder that garret is never in order," said Aunt Carrie; "but the children must enjoy themselves."
"Of course, they must, Carrie," replied grandma from the depths of her heart.
First, the boys pulled out a box of old books and papers, and busied themselves reading the queer names and advertisements of old times. Soon they turned from these to a shelf of chemical instruments. Most of them were in perfect order, and they knew they must keep their hands off, for the bulbs and tubes of glass were too delicate to be touched by unskilled fingers.
"Here is an old broken forrometer," exclaimed Harry. "Let's ask grandpa if we can have it."