k and Sahwah ran along beside her, making her keep up the
pace when she pleaded fatigue. More dead than alive she reached home,
but warm from head to foot. Sahwah rolled her in hot blankets and
administered hot drinks with a practiced hand. Neither Mrs. Gardiner nor
Betty were at home. Migwan soon dropped off to sleep, and woke feeling
entirely well. Thanks to Sahwah's taking her in hand she emerged from
the experience without even a sign of a cold.

With heroic patience and courage she began again the weary task of
typing and burning all the pages of Professor Green's book and finished
it this time without mishap. The money she received for it all went into
the family purse. Not a cent did she spend on herself.

Not long after this Migwan had a taste of fame. She had a poem printed
in the paper! It happened in this way. At the Sunbeam Nursery one
morning Nyoda saw her surrounded by a group of breathlessly listening
children and joined the circle to hear the story Migwan was telling. She
had apparently just finished, and the childish voices were calling out
from all sides, "Tell it again!" Nyoda listened with interest as Migwan,
with a solemn expression and impressive voice, recited the tragic tale
of the "Goop Who Wouldn't Wash":

Gunther Augustus Agricola Gunn,
He was a Goop if there ever was one!
Slapped his small sister whene'er he could reach her,
Muddied the carpet, made mouths at the preacher,
Talked back to his mother whenever she chid,
Always did otherwise than he was bid;
Gunther Augustus Agricola Gunn,
Manners he certainly had not a one!

O bad little Goops, wheresoe'er you may be,
Take heed what befell young Agricola G!
For Gunther Augustus (unlike you, I hope),
Had an inborn aversion to water and soap;
He fought when they washed him, he squirmed and he twisted,
He shrieked, scratched and wriggled until they desisted;
He would not be combed--it was no use to try--
O he was a Goop, they could all testify!

So Gunther went dirty--unwashed and uncombed,
With hands black as pitch through the garden he roamed;
When suddenly a monstrous black shadow fell o'er him,
And the Woman Who Scrubs Dirty Goops stood before him!

Her waist was a washcloth, her skirt was a towel,
She looked down at him with a horrible scowl;
One hand was a brush and the other a comb,
Her forehead was soap and her pompadour foam!
Her foot was a shoebrush, and on it did grow
A shi