"Now you boys are to wipe the dishes for Rachel," said their mother, with an approving glance at the group.

"I'd rather," began Rachel, wrinkling up her face.

"So remember; and when you are through, and the kitchen is set up neatly, you may all play out of doors this afternoon, for lessons don't begin for you until to-morrow, Rachel. And now be good children."

"I don't like lessons," said Peletiah, when they were left alone.

"Don't you?" exclaimed Rachel, in astonishment, and resting her soapy hands on the edge of the dishpan.

"No, I don't," declared Peletiah, with great deliberation, "like them at all."

"Well, I shall, I know." Rachel twitched off her hands and slapped the mop down smartly among the cups in the hot water.

"Ow! you splashed me all over," exclaimed Ezekiel. "See there, now, Rachel." He stepped hack and held up his arm.

"Phoo! that's nothing," said Rachel.

"It hurt; it's hot," said Ezekiel, squirming about.

"Well, if you ain't a baby!" cried Rachel scornfully.

"My mother said we weren't to call names," observed Peletiah.

"Oh, my! I forgot that. But he is a baby," declared Rachel.

"My mother said we were not to call names," repeated Peletiah, exactly as if he hadn't made that remark before.

"Oh, dear me! how perfectly awful you--I mean I never saw such boys. Oh, my!"

"My mother said----"

"Yes, yes, I know," interrupted Rachel, splashing away for dear life; "well, now we must hurry and get these dishes done."

"And then we can go out and play," said Ezekiel, departing with the plate he was drying to a safe distance from the hot shower from Rachel's busy fingers.

"Yes. Oh, my, what fun! Let's hurry." And before the boys quite knew how, the dishes were all piled in the pantry, the dishpan and mop washed out and hung up to dry, and the crumbs swept from the kitchen floor.

"There," said Rachel, smoothing down her ap.r.o.n in great satisfaction, "now we can go out. Come on, I'm going to the corner to see that funeral go by."

"We can't," said Peletiah, trying his best to hurry after her. "Mother doesn't let us go out of the yard when she's away; and beside, there isn't any corner--the road just goes round."

"Oh, bother!" Rachel whirled around and stamped her foot impatiently.

"And 'twill come past our house," contributed Ezekiel, gaining her side, "so let's sit on the doorstep till it comes."

"And you can tell us about the funerals you've seen in the city," suggested Peletiah, who had been thinking about them ever since.

"All right," said Rachel, seeing she was not to lose sight of the parade she so dearly loved. "Whoopity--la!" She flung herself down on the long, flat doorstone, and whipped her gown neatly away on either side. "I'm goin'

to sit in the middle."

The boys, very much pleased at this arrangement, which they would never have thought of suggesting, sat down sedately in their places and folded their hands in their laps.

"Now tell about those funerals," said Peletiah.

"Well, let me think," said Rachel, reflecting; "you see, I've seen so many.

Hmm! Oh, I know!" She jumped so suddenly that she came near precipitating Ezekiel, who was leaning forward to attain a better view of her face, off into the middle of the peony bed.

"Take care!" Rachel twitched him back into his place. "Yes, I'm goin' to tell you about one perfectly splendid funeral I see just----"

"You mustn't say 'see,'" corrected Peletiah, with disapproval. He was fairly longing for the recital, but it would never do to let such a slip in conversation pa.s.s.

"Well, what shall I say, then?" cried Rachel pertly, and not at all pleased at the interruption.

"You must say 'saw.'"

"I didn't saw it; you can't saw a thing," she declared contemptuously.

"You've got to see it, or else you can't say you did. So there, Pel--Pel--whatever your name is."

"My name is Peletiah," he said solemnly,

"Peletiah--oh, dear me!" Rachel put her face between her two hands and began to giggle.

"Tell about the funeral," said Ezekiel, twitching her sleeve.

"And you must say 'saw,'" reiterated Peletiah.

"I can't; 'tain't right, an' I ain't a-goin' to say 'saw' to please you, so there, now!" declared Rachel, bringing up her head and setting her mouth obstinately.

"Then I ain't going to sit here," said Peletiah, getting off from the door-stone, "because my mother wouldn't like it; she always makes me say 'saw.'"

"Does she?" cried Rachel, a little red spot coming on either cheek. "Does she, Pele--Pele--say, does she?"

"Yes, she does," said Peletiah, moving off slowly.

"Well, then, I'll say it. Came back and sit down; I'll say it. Saw, saw, saw. There, now"--as Peletiah, very much delighted, settled back into his place. "Well, you know this was a great big-bug who was buried, and----"

"A big bug!" exclaimed Peletiah, terribly disappointed. "I don't want to hear of any bugs; tell about a funeral," he commanded loudly.

"I am tellin' you; keep still an' you'll hear it. Well, he was a gre--at big-bug, an'----"

"Who was?" cried Ezekiel, dreadfully puzzled.

"This man who was to be buried--this one I'm tellin' you of. Do keep still, an' you'll hear if you don't stop me every minute."

"You said it was a bug," said Peletiah, in loud disapproval, on the further side.

"Well, so he was," declared Rachel, turning around to him. "Some men are big-bugs, an' some men are only little mean ones. But this one I'm tellin'

you about was, oh, an awful big one," and she spread her arms with a generous sweep to indicate his importance.