ockery out on the back steps for Mother, and soon
rambled off to see what new adventures he could find in the name of
Safety First.

Betty spent most of the morning in the kitchen, helping Mother. As soon
as Bob was off again after lunch, she began to roam about the yard,
eyeing everything like a hawk. Soon Mother saw her picking up the boards
Bob had pried loose from the box and scowling at the ugly nails that
stuck up where little feet might so easily be stabbed by their rusty
points. These she carefully bent down with a big stone.

"That's one on Bob, anyway," said Betty to herself, and went on looking
around the yard.

Her eye roved upward to the bright geraniums on the sill of Mother's
window upstairs. "Mother," she called, "have you ever read _Ben Hur_?"

"Why, yes, Betty--a long time ago. Why?"

"Don't you remember how that loose tile from Ben Hur's roof--the one he
tried to snatch back as he saw it fall--struck the Roman soldier on the
head, and how Ben Hur went to prison for it? Well, what about those
flower pots up there?"

"Why, Betty!" cried her mother, more puzzled than ever. "Ben Hur--flower
pots--what is the dear child talking about?"

Betty laughed. "I read in the paper last night that one of the big
hotels has put up signs in every room, and they say:

=PATRONS--ATTENTION=

=Please do not place articles of any kind ON
WINDOW SILL (bottles and chinaware most
dangerous). They may fall or be blown into the
street, causing serious if not fatal accidents.=

"That's because a flower pot fell from an upper window on a woman's
head. Baby's sand pile is right below your window, and one of the flower
pots might fall while she was out there playing. A sudden draft could do
it, or a door slammed hard. Do you mind if I fasten them on with wire so
they can't fall? Then I'll do it right now before anything happens!"

She had just finished the job to her satisfaction, and was looking about
for something else, when Mother called softly: "Betty, if you'll keep a
lookout and let me know if anybody comes, or if Baby wakes up, I'll take
a nap."

Betty was pleased. Here was a fine chance to play housekeeper. Mother
left a soup bone simmering over one burner of the gas stove, and a steam
pudding bubbling away over another, and went upstairs for her nap.

Betty tiptoed to the little sewing-room, next to the kitchen, and looked
in. Baby was sleeping. Then she sof