fun here. Let's hook it to
my place, and I'll show you my rabbits. I've taken a fancy to you, and, if
you like, I'll let you call me by my first name. It's Simon. And I'll call
you by yours. That minor and minimus business is rather rotten when you're
friends. Come along."

Mrs. Handsomebody, we knew, was safe at a lecture on The Application of
Science to Human Relationships; Mary Ellen was doing her Friday's cleaning;
therefore, we set off with our new-found friend without fear of hindrance
from the female section of our household.

III

As we trotted along, Simon told us that his family had taken a large old
house that had stood vacant ever since we had come to live with Mrs.
Handsomebody. How often we had timidly passed its dingy front, wondering
what might be within its closed shutters and deep-set front door!

Now, as we approached, we saw that the sign, To Let, had been taken down;
the door and shutters were wide open; and, one of the shutters, hanging at
a rakish angle, much as Simon wore his cap, gave a promise of jollity and
lack of restraint within.

"We shall just cut around to the back garden," announced Simon. "The kids
are there, and need putting in order by the row they are making."

We passed through a low door in the wall that separated the front garden
from the back. The wall was overgrown with dusty untrimmed creepers, from
which a flock of sparrows flew when the door was opened.

For a moment, we could scarcely take in the scene before us; in our
experience it was so unprecedented. But Simon did not seem in the least
surprised.

"Hi, kids!" he yelled, "just keep that water off us, will you! Put down
that hose, Mops!"

Mops was a girl a little younger than Simon. She stood in the middle of the
garden, a hose in her hands, and she was absorbed in drenching two
half-naked small boys and five fox terriers, who circled around her like
performers in a circus ring. The noise of yelling boys and barking dogs was
terrific.

"What's she doing?" we gasped.

"It's so dev'lish hot that the hose feels bully. Like to try it?"

"I wish we had got our bathing suits," said Angel.

"Never mind. I think there's a couple of pairs of trunks in the scullery,
and the young 'un can have a pinafore of Mopsie's."

He led the way down some littered steps into a basement room, where a
dishevelled maid was blacking boots.

"Here Playter," he ordered, "dig up some togs for a hosing, will you? And
be sharp abou