“You naughty boy, how dare you behave in this way?” she exclaimed indignantly, “I will take you to your mamma this moment if you do not behave better, and do as you are told.”
“You had better not, or I will pull your hair, and make you wish you had let me alone,” exclaimed Norman, throwing himself back in the chair, and holding on to its arms to prevent Susan from lifting him up.
“Pray allow him to remain here, Susan, and I daresay he will let me finish dressing him. He did not hurt me so very much, but I was frightened, not expecting him to behave in that way, and so I could not help crying out for a moment,” said Fanny. “You will be good now, Norman, won’t you? and finish dressing, and be ready to go down to breakfast.”
The young gentleman made no answer, but sat as if rooted in the chair, looking defiantly at Susan and his sister.
“I see what we must do, young gentleman,” said Susan, who was a sensible woman, possessing herself of the stockings which had fallen on the ground, “we must put an end to this nonsense.”
Suddenly jerking up Master Norman, she seated herself in the chair, and pressing down his arms so that he could not reach her, she quickly drew on first one stocking and then the other.
“Now, Miss Fanny, please hand me the shoes,” and though Norman tried to kick she held his little legs and put them on.
“Now your hair must be put to rights, young gentleman. It is in a pretty mess with your struggles. Hand me the brush please, Miss Fanny!” and while she held down his arms, though he moved his head from side to side, she managed dexterously to arrange his rich curly locks.
“Has he washed his hands?” asked Susan.
Fanny shook her head.