"The house is small, and is brown too--in spots," said Mrs. Lee. "It has four rooms downstairs and four bedrooms above. There is no water or gas in the house, which is of course a great inconvenience; and the place is in shabby condition; but the landlord has promised to make the necessary repairs and to paint the house for us." "He probably realises what it will mean to Cherry Street in a social way, to have us for tenants," said Beatrice. "You bet he does," said Theodore. "In his mind's eye he can probably see Cherry Street ablaze with light and aglow with colour. He can see number twelve filled with diamond tiaras and cut glass pianos and freezers full of ice cream, to signify that a function is on. He can see the Caseys and the Raffertys and the Rosenbaums riding by in their coupés and splendour to attend the house warming given by the minister. Thus will 'sassiety' be brought into Cherry Street by the new tenants." "Is there a yard?" asked Miss Billy diplomatically, for Beatrice was flushing angrily under her brother's ridicule. "Yes, there is a large yard," said Mrs. Lee. "The sod is almost worn off, but a little grass seed and care will work wonders there." "Good!" exclaimed Miss Billy. "Then perhaps, sometime in the dim and misty future I may have a garden of my own. I would be willing to move for that alone." "And I can raise vegetables and keep chickens," said Theodore. "And rise at daybreak to plough and harrow, and to feed and water your stock," slyly added Miss Billy. "Yes, my dear," retorted Theodore with true brotherly inflection, "and without the aid of an alarm clock either. When I hear a combination of an avalanche and an ice wagon going downstairs I shall say to myself: 'Time to get up. There goes Miss Billy.'" "How about the furniture?" inquired Miss Billy, ignoring her brother's thrust. "It seems to me that what now abundantly fills fourteen rooms will overflow in eight. I have a hazy recollection of a philosophical principle about two objects not being able to occupy the same place at the same time. How shall we manage to get our great-grandmother's colossal bed into an eight by ten bedroom? Can you put allopathic furniture into a homoeopathic house, mother mine?" "That is another thing to be considered," said Mrs. Lee. "Of course we shall not be able to take all of our furniture. I think we must plan to move only what is most necessary----" "The bath tub and the Bible," interrupted Theodore. "Yes," said his mother, smiling in spite of herself at the boy's merry way of treating a serious subject. "And the books for your father, and the piano for Beatrice----" "And the couch for Theodore," suggested Miss Billy. "And the watering pot for Miss Billy," retorted Theodore.