MILLICENT. 39

the chairs, down went the line, and all the clothes lay in
confusion on the floor.

“Oh, boys! boys! see what you have done!” cried Milli-
cent, almost in tears.

But they were off with a dash; Harry, casting a look be-
hind him, only said, “ Pooh! they are nothing but a lot of
dolls’ clothes. What difference does it make?”

This was poor consolation, and Millicent stood looking in
despair at the nice clean clothes all streaked and dusty, but
she was a brave little maid, and in a few minutes the clothes
were back again in the tubs, and Millicent was rubbing
away as hard as ever. The next time she carried her
clothes down-stairs and hung them out in the yard, away
from further danger. Then she went into the kitchen and
poured her grievance into the sympathetic ears of Lizzie, the
cook.
“Deed, Miss, I has had that trouble myself,” said Lizzie.
“TI done had my clothes up one day, and the line broke, and
down they comes. I had to do’em all over again. I was put
out sho’ *nough.”

“Then you know just how tired I am,” said Millicent;
“and they must all be ironed this afternoon, for the children
will want clean clothes for next week, and I shall not have
time for anything but lessons till next Saturday.”

“You bring ’em in here,” said Lizzie, “and after I has
washed up the kitchen and has the cake in baking, I can help