Then she proceeded to "tidy" the room. Janet had been "tidying" all day, quite in vain; for the simple reason that as fast as she made one part tidy she made another part untidy. Betsy Simmons, on the contrary, advanced steadily, step by step, placing everything in order, putting away this, hanging up that, pushing chairs back against the wall, collecting stray scraps of paper, string and cotton, and working a rapid transformation. Once Janet protested, "I shall want that directly, Mrs. Simmons; it's no good putting it by." "Want it! And if you do," said Mrs. Simmons, "what then, Mrs. Humphrey? Can't you get it out again? I shall want my bed by-and-by, but I don't keep it at hand all day in my shop. It saves a deal of trouble, to put everything straight away in its right place the moment it's been used." "But the children'll only drag all the chairs crooked in another minute," said Janet. "Chairs are meant to be used," said Mrs. Simmons, in an oracular manner. "But there's no need for them all to stand about the whole day like a set of dancing dervishes. If every child was taught to put his chair back straight against the wall after he's done with it, the world would be over so much tidier." "Why, I don't do that," said Janet. "More's the pity!" said Mrs. Simmons. Having swept up the hearth,—an operation which Janet rarely performed, because it was sure to need sweeping again before long,—Mrs. Simmons brought out water and soap. The missing soap she had accidentally discovered, lying hidden under Janet's bonnet. The elder children submitted with tolerable composure to having their dirty little faces and hands made clean and shining. Tommy, however, had a strong dislike to soap, and Tommy shrieked his disapproval. "He won't like it," gasped Janet, in dismay. "Then he'll have to get along without the liking," said Betsy Simmons calmly, as she lifted Tommy into a convenient position. "Tommy will be a good boy, won't he?" said Janet coaxingly. "Mother will give him a nice bun if he is good." "Give him a bun for having his face washed!" said Mrs. Simmons. "And a halfpenny for stopping crying! He's like to cost you dear at this rate, Mrs. Humphrey. Haven't you got any better use for your pennies than that?" Janet sat rebuked; ashamed yet angry. Tommy yelled, but he yelled in vain. Mrs. Simmons quietly soaped him, scrubbed him, sponged him, and dried him. A clean though tearful little boy was presently seated on a chair, and told to "be good." "He wouldn't let me do all that, now," said Janet. Mrs. Simmons turned round quite indignantly. "Wouldn't let!" she said. "A baby of three not let his mother do as she likes with him! What on earth do you mean, Mrs. Humphrey?" "Well, I don't know,—it doesn't seem as if I could manage them like you do," said Janet.