With a readiness and faith that was sublime, he of the petticoats went at it, and had just succeeded in turning a side somersault, such as was never seen before, when further effort was nipped in the bud by some one coming into the hall. "Good gracious!" cried a merry voice, as the tumbler was caught up, shaken, and set down with some force. "What are you up to now, Thomas, my lively son?" "He wath standin' on hith head, auntie," explained the judge, with great politeness, as the tumbler appeared too much confused by all the circumstances to make any answer. "Wath he, indeed?" laughed Thomas's mama. "Mashing his little head all to jelly; poor Tommy!" "No," said Tom, whose remarks were more noticeable for brevity than anything else. "No shelly." "Yes, indeed, little soft-head; come, ask papa," and with that Mrs. Tremayne--for who should it be but lively Kat--shouldered her small, but ambitious son, and carried him away. The judge looked forlorn after that. He folded his small handkerchief and put it carefully away in its tiny pocket, then he sat down on the lowest step and looked thoughtfully out of the front door, as though he expected further developments to arrive from that direction. Nor was he disappointed. There arose a sound of labored and energetic breathing from without, as of some one toiling up the steps, and then something in white fluttered across the porch, and in at the door, and the judge fairly beamed with delight and satisfaction. "Hullo!" he said politely. "'Llo," returned the new-comer. "Where'd you come from?" "Off," said the stranger, with a flourish of both small arms, intended to indicate some great distance. "Runned off." "Did you? From Pansy?" "Yeth." And the bunch of ruffles and brown ribbon shook its head with distinctive force, while the bits of slippered feet began to dance wildly up and down the hall. "Mama'll come," said the judge, warningly, and, sure enough, out came a lady, with the loveliest face, and a white lace cap on her grey hair. "Come, dears," she said, in a voice we know well and both flew to her, for who was dearer to their loving hearts than "Dramma?" "Time for little birdies to be eating supper, and getting little peepers shut up tight, before Santa Claus comes," she said, going towards the dining room, with a little hopper clinging to each hand, and playing peep around her. Tom was already at the table, pounding with his spoon, and smiling serenely through the milk that spattered his face from forehead to chin, and there were two other bowls and spoons and high chairs, ready and waiting. "Naughty Louise," said Mrs. Kittie, as she lifted the white-robed morsel to her chair, and tied on her bib. "Run away from poor sister Pansy, and make her feel bad." "All baddy, mama?" inquired Louise, looking over her bowl with repentant eyes.