The earth seemed brightening for all at Holly Lodge. The Colonel had learned more and more to accommodate himself to the little house and the simple surroundings, and, free from debts and duns, had great peace. Betty, whose heart had flown about like the larks and thrushes from bough to bough, had at last made its nest, and she too had great peace. Kettle turned out to be not only a solid addition to their comfort, but almost to their happiness. His sturdy little bow-legs waddled about, bringing wood and water, and doing errands. He was always cheery and helpful, but with the faults which are necessary to the typical boy. He would occasionally neglect his work for the sake of his adored fiddle, and when sent down to the river shore to catch crabs for dinner would become so absorbed in the sport that he would forget that it was merely a means to an end. One day, however, he incurred the wrath of the whole establishment at Holly Lodge. Among Betty's treasures was a great tall glass bottle of attar of roses, of which a single drop perfumed a room. Kettle, passing Betty's open door, the room being empty, saw on the dressing table the beautiful bottle in which was stored the perfume he loved. The devil tempted him, and Kettle yielded. He slipped into the room, and, opening the bottle, rubbed its contents, a gill or two of attar of rose, into his wool. Downstairs, a pungent odor, so strong that it was almost asphyxiating, penetrated, and as Kettle's steps were heard approaching the perfume became overpowering. The Colonel began to sneeze, and even Aunt Tulip and Uncle Cesar in the kitchen had to run out into the open air. Betty, with her handkerchief to her face, rushed into the little hall, where Kettle stood, his eyes bulging out of his head, as he too gasped and sneezed. "You've upset my attar of rose upon your head!" screamed Betty. "Go out of doors this minute, and I'll hand you over to Uncle Cesar for a real switching this time." By that time Aunt Tulip had dashed in from the kitchen, and, seizing Kettle by his woolly head, dragged him out of doors to the pump, calling meanwhile for Uncle Cesar, working in the garden. "Cesar! You Cesar! Come heah right away, an' bring my big scissors. This heah wuffless little black nigger done tooken all Miss Betty's attar of rose an' done rub it into he haid, an' arter you git the scissors, cut a switch an' give him a good tunin' up." This terrifying prospect entirely upset Kettle's moral balance, and he began to protest, spluttering and stuttering, as Aunt Tulip pumped water vigorously on his offending head. "I 'clar ter goodness, I ain' never see Miss Betty's attar of rose. I ain' never tetch it." At that, Aunt Tulip stopped pumping on Kettle long enough to shake him violently. "Does you know where liars go?" cried Aunt Tulip indignantly. "Doan' you know nothin' 'bout the lake burnin' wid fire an' brimstone, an' the devil stan'in' by wid a red hot pitchfork, stickin' it into dem sinners?"