bath-pan; but catching Jackson was
important, so he did not stop to investigate.

Armed with the paternal permission, Molly carried her point, and oh,
what a dreadful evening poor Boo spent! First, he was decoyed upstairs
an hour too soon, then put in a tub by main force and sternly scrubbed,
in spite of shrieks that brought Miss Bat to the locked door to condole
with the sufferer, scold the scrubber, and depart, darkly prophesying
croup before morning.

"He always howls when he is washed; but I shall do it, since you
won't, and he must get used to it. I will not have people tell me he's
neglected, if I can help it," cried Molly, working away with tears in
her eyes--for it was as hard for her as for Boo; but she meant to be
thorough for once in her life, no matter what happened.

When the worst was over, she coaxed him with candy and stories till the
long task of combing out the curls was safely done; then, in the clean
night-gown with a blue button newly sewed on, she laid him in bed, worn
out, but sweet as a rose.

"Now, say your prayers, darling, and go to sleep with the nice red
blanket all tucked round so you won't get cold," said Molly, rather
doubtful of the effect of the wet head.

"No, I won't! Going to sleep _now!_" and Boo shut his eyes wearily,
feeling that his late trials had not left him in a prayerful mood.

"Then you'll be a real little heathen, as Mrs. Pecq called you, and
I don't know what I shall do with you," said Molly, longing to cuddle
rather than scold the little fellow, whose soul needed looking after as
well as his body.

"No, no; I won't be a heevin! I don't want to be frowed to the
trockindiles. I will say my prayers! oh, I will!" and, rising in
his bed, Boo did so, with the devotion of an infant Samuel, for he
remembered the talk when the society was formed.

Molly thought her labors were over for that night, and soon went to bed,
tired with her first attempts. But toward morning she was wakened by the
hoarse breathing of the boy, and was forced to patter away to Miss Bat's
room, humbly asking for the squills, and confessing that the prophecy
had come to pass.

"I knew it! Bring the child to me, and don't fret. I'll see to him, and
next time you do as I say," was the consoling welcome she received as
the old lady popped up a sleepy but anxious face in a large flannel cap,
and shook the bottle with the air of a general who had routed the foe
before and meant to do it again.

Leav