! Yah, how cold the water is! Why, I thought I _was_ up;" and,
hopping out, Jack rubbed his eyes and looked about with such a genuine
surprise that Frank put down the pail, feeling that the deluge would not
be needed this time.

"You are now, and I'll see that you keep so," he said, as he stripped
the bed and carried off the pillows.

"I don't care. What a jolly day!" and Jack took a little promenade to
finish the rousing process.

"You'd better hurry up, or you won't get your chores done before
breakfast. No time for a 'go as you please' now," said Frank; and both
boys laughed, for it was an old joke of theirs, and rather funny.

Going up to bed one night expecting to find Jack asleep, Frank
discovered him tramping round and round the room airily attired in
a towel, and so dizzy with his brisk revolutions that as his brother
looked he tumbled over and lay panting like a fallen gladiator.

"What on earth are you about?"

"Playing Rowell. Walking for the belt, and I've got it too," laughed
Jack, pointing to an old gilt chandelier chain hanging on the bedpost.

"You little noodle, you'd better revolve into bed before you lose your
head entirely. I never saw such a fellow for taking himself off his
legs."

"Well, if I didn't exercise, do you suppose I should be able to do
that--or that?" cried Jack, turning a somersault and striking a fine
attitude as he came up, flattering himself that he was the model of a
youthful athlete.

"You look more like a clothes-pin than a Hercules," was the crushing
reply of this unsympathetic brother, and Jack meekly retired with a bad
headache.

"I don't do such silly things now: I'm as broad across the shoulders as
you are, and twice as strong on my pins, thanks to my gymnastics. Bet
you a cent I'll be dressed first, though you have got the start,"
said Jack, knowing that Frank always had a protracted wrestle with his
collar-buttons, which gave his adversary a great advantage over him.

"Done!" answered Frank, and at it they went. A wild scramble was heard
in Jack's room, and a steady tramp in the other as Frank worked away at
the stiff collar and the unaccommodating button till every finger ached.
A clashing of boots followed, while Jack whistled "Polly Hopkins," and
Frank declaimed in his deepest voice,

"Arma virumque cano, Trojae qui primus ab oris Italiam, fato profugus,
Laviniaque venit litora."

Hair-brushes came next, and here Frank got ahead, for Jack's thick crop
w