"Jiminy! I didn't get much of a sweep on that, did I now? But don't you
fret, I've got the lay of it now, and I'll just polish her off red-hot
to-morrer, 'n don't you forgit it!"

"Patsy, here's a warm bun and a glass of milk; let's eat and drink
together, because this is the beginning of our friendship; but please
don't talk street words to Miss Kate; she doesn't like them. I'll do
everything I can to make you have a good time, and you'll try to do a
few things to please me, won't you?"

Patsy looked embarrassed, ate his bit of bun in silence, and after
twirling his hat-crown for a few seconds hitched out of the door with a
backward glance and muttered remark which must have been intended for
farewell.

CHAPTER III.

TWO 'PRENTICE HANDS AT PHILANTHROPY.

"With aching hands and bleeding feet,
We dig and heap, lay stone on stone;
We bear the burden and the heat
Of the long day and wish 't were done.
Not till the hours of light return
All we have built do we discern."

Patsy had scarcely gone when the door opened again the least bit, and a
sunny face looked in, that of my friend and helper.

"Not gone yet, Kate?"

"No, but I thought I sent you away long ago."

"Yes, I know, but I've been to see Danny Kern's mother: there is nothing
to be done; we must do our best and leave it there. Was that a boy I met
on the stairs?"

"Yes,--that is, he is a boy in the sense that he is not a girl. Oh,
Helen, such a story! We must take him!"

She sank helplessly on one of the children's tables. "Now, my dear
guide, philosopher, and friend, did you happen to notice my babies this
morning? They were legion! Our mothers must have heard that the Flower
Mission intended giving us some Thanksgiving dinners, for there were our
five inevitable little cat's-paws,--the identical five that applied just
before the Christmas tree, disappeared in vacation, turned up the day
before we went to the Mechanics' Fair, were lost to sight the day after,
presented themselves previous to the Woodward's Garden expedition, and
then went into retirement till to-day. Where am I going to 'sit' another
child, pray? They were two in a seat and a dozen on the floor this
morning. It isn't fair to them, in one sense, for they don't get half
enough attention."

"You are right, dear; work half done is worse than wasted; but it isn't
fair to this child to leave him where he is."

"Oh, I know. I feel Fridayish, to tell