Jumble sat in the middle catching with nimble, snapping
jaws dainties flung to him from time to time by his circle of
admirers.
Ethel advanced nearer and inspected William's red handkerchief with
dawning horror in her face. Then she gave a scream.
"_William_, that's my silk scarf! It was for a hat. I've only just
bought it. Oh, mother, do _do_ something to William! He's taken my new
silk scarf--the one I'd got to trim my Leghorn. He's the most _awful_
boy. I don't think----"
Mrs. Brown came out hastily to pacify her. William handed the silk
scarf back to its rightful owner.
"Well, I'm _sorry_. I _thought_ it was a red handkerchief. It _looked_
like a red handkerchief. Well, how could I _know_ it wasn't a red
handkerchief? I've given it her back. It's all right, Jumble's only
bit one end of it. And that's only jam what dropped on it. Well, it'll
_wash_, won't it? Well, I've said I'm sorry.
"I don't get much _thanks_," William continued bitterly. "Me givin' up
my half holiday to helpin' you removin', an' I don't get much
_thanks_!"
"Well, William," said Mrs. Brown, "you can go to the new house with
the first van. He'll be less in the way there," she confided
distractedly to the world in general.
William was delighted with this proposal. At the new house there was a
fresh set of men to unload the van, and there was the thrill of making
their acquaintance.
Then the front gate was only just painted and bore a notice "Wet
Paint.
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