ou know it?"

"Sietske----!"

"Why, certainly. Who told you? And what are you doing here. It isn't
very respectable. Are you drunk? And so young, too."

He called Sietske's name again.

"You may call me by my first name, if you want to; but how does it
come? Did Femke tell you? It's a real disgrace to lie here like a
hog. What were you going to say?"

Walter rubbed his eyes and felt of his head. "I would like to wash
myself," he said, not yet wide awake.

"All right," cried Mrs. Claus. "And you're not hurt, are you? Where
is your cap?"

"Wash--with cold water," Walter said.

"Good! Come to the pump with me." She led him through the house and
across the back yard.

"You needn't be afraid to undress here; nobody can see you. But how
did you happen to call me by my first name all at once. Not that I'm
offended at all."

Walter was still too much asleep to recall what had happened to him
during the past few hours; so he only said that he had a headache
and must wash himself first.

Mrs. Claus, noticing that he was ashamed to undress, hung some quilts
on the fence, thus converting the yard into a sort of room. It never
occurred to her that her own presence might embarrass him. Walter
was still not quite pleased with the outlook for a bath; but since
yesterday he had been thinking of other things as strange.

He began to strip, allowing Mrs. Claus to help him, just as if he
had been fifteen years younger than he was. To Mrs. Claus he was only
a child.

She laid him on a bench under the spout and began to pump. At the first
drops he shivered; then the water flooded his head and shoulders. He
could neither see nor speak. His efforts to speak she interpreted as
calls for more water.

"Yes, this will be good for you." Her words were drowned by the
splashing water.

"You didn't hurt yourself, did you? Do you think that will be enough
now? I've pumped till I've got a pain in my side. But if you think
that----"

She stopped all at once, but still held on to the pump handle, as if
to show her willingness to continue.

"I forgot entirely to"--she began pumping again--"wash you off with
green soap. Femke always washes herself with it. It makes the skin
nice and smooth.--You ought to see your back now. It shines like
a looking-glass."

Walter wanted to say something but couldn't.

"Yes, and your forehead, too. It's the green soap that does it. I
guess your mother never washes you with green soap, does she? Th