“‘_I’m_ going down to Grove’s and buy a long licorice pipe with _my_ nickel,’ said Leah Kaatenstein--a long licorice pipe was the very most she could get for her money--also shaking and pounding fruitlessly, for she too had forgotten the little iron slide. “‘_I’m_ going down to Grove’s and buy some cookies with _my_ nickel,’ said Jenny Kaatenstein, likewise pounding and shaking and forgetting the little iron slide. “And little Willy Kaatenstein said never a word, but when he had learned what to buy with his money he ran out of the front door and down the street to Grove’s on the corner. “Now when Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein considered and rejoiced over the absence of their mother, they forgot at the same time to consider and fear the perilous nearness of Emma ironing in the kitchen--the kitchen being next to the dining-room. “Suddenly while they were in the midst of their work and were shaking and pounding away for dear life, unconscious of all else, the door leading into the kitchen was pushed open with ominous quiet and the head of Emma appeared. It was an unprepossessing head at all times, and it was a dangerous-looking head at that moment. “Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein perceived this vision at once, and an appalling silence like the tomb followed the clamor that had been. “‘So this is what you’re up to, you young limbs!’ said Emma, and swooped down and pounced upon them before they could possibly escape, though they had made for the door with very creditable speed. Emma held them with one hand while she picked up the banks with the other. She remarked, in unmeasured terms, upon the condition of the waxed dining-room floor, upon the vicious qualities of some children whom she mentioned by name, upon what would happen to them when their mother came home, and upon what was going to happen to them right away. “And she led them upstairs to their mother’s bed-room and, after shaking them well, locked them in and went downstairs, carrying the key with her. “Meanwhile little Willy Kaatenstein had gone upon his interesting errand at Grove’s on the corner. “He went into the shop and stood before a glittering glass case of things. “‘And what’ll it be for Master Kaatenstein to-day?’ said the man behind the glittering case. “‘I want gum-drops and licorice pipes and cookies--and some watermelons,’ said little Willy Kaatenstein and laid the shining gold coin before the grocer’s astonished eyes, for the grocer had expected to see the Kaatenstein semi-occasional nickel--nothing more or less. “‘Is this yours, Master Kaatenstein?’ said the grocer, eyeing the coin with suspicion. “‘Of course it’s mine,’ said little Willy Kaatenstein, impatiently. ‘And I want the things right away.’ “‘Well, I suppose it’s all right, my boy,’ said the grocer. ‘If it isn’t, _one_ of us’ll have to suffer, I guess. Now, what did you say you wanted?’