Janey, the eldest of the party, the little nine years old maiden of the curl-papers, sat on a chair, in the pink cotton which she had worn at the school feast, nursing the baby; and the baby, a plump infant of nine months, being hungry, was screaming lustily. Jackey and Sukey, aged eight and seven, were quarrelling in the window; and Willie and Tommy, aged five and three, were rolling about upon the floor, with rough heads and smeared faces, each having a piece of bread-and-butter. Janet herself, with a soiled cap and a heated anxious face, was hurrying to and fro distractedly. Some damp clothes hung round the fire, and cooking utensils were scattered uncomfortably here and there, while the china used at the mid-day meal lay still unwashed upon the wooden table. "Father'll be in directly, and he'll be so vexed not to find things straight." This was Janet's usual observation every evening, as if it were quite an uncommon event for him to find them so; whereas in reality it was a matter of daily occurrence. "Oh dear, dear, whatever am I do? If I'd known it would have taken so long, I'd never have got those things washed out to-day. To-morrow would have done as well. Do stop that child's crying, Janey. It goes through my head. And those children,—if I wash them one minute, they're not fit to be seen the next." Janet's "minute" was a long one on this occasion, since she had not found time to wash them for several hours. She came forward, and pulled Tommy up with a jerk, whereupon he burst into a howl. "Have done, will you?" said Janet pettishly, giving him a little shake. "Father'll be back directly, and he'll be angry. Where's the soap? O dear,—nobody knows what I have to go through. I don't think there ever was such a set of children. Stop crying this minute, Tommy, or you shan't have one single bit more of bread-and-butter." Whereupon Tommy wailed the more, and a man's head appeared in the doorway. "Not ready—as usual!" said Jem. "No, and shan't be for another hour," said Janet sharply; for the general condition of things made her feel cross, though she was not naturally ill-tempered. "Then I'm best out of the way," said Jem rather gruffly, and he disappeared. "There! and he'll go to the public, and get into trouble, as sure as can be," exclaimed Janet despairingly. "Whatever did make me speak like that to him? Well, I must just get on, and make things straight. Stop crying, Tommy, do,—come now, be a good boy, and mother will give him a halfpenny." The promised bribe took effect, and Tommy's howls lessened. Janet decided to defer the washing for fear of setting him off again. She slipped a halfpenny into one grimy little hand, and a piece of bread into the other, and placed him again on the floor. Then, having given her children an unwholesome lesson on the easiest mode of getting their own way, she turned round, flurried and annoyed, to find herself facing Mrs. Simmons.