“I don’t grudge it to you, my dear,” responded Jim. “I’m going to imitate you, that’s all. I work hard, week by week, month by month, and year by year. I’m going to take a bit of amusement now, and I’m sure you won’t grudge it to me. Now then, Rosie, set the cups out, and the plates—the cups at the top, ye know, and the plates all round. Jack, fetch Daddy’s boots there, and I’ll tell ye what to do with them.” The little boy obeyed, and Jim in spite of his feeble state, found himself able to take the child out to the shed at the back, and there instruct him in the art of boot-cleaning, of which he proved himself a capable scholar. By the time they returned breakfast was ready. Mrs Frisby looked up with an attempt at a smile as they came in. “I am glad to see you are better,” she said. “Maybe you’ll be able to go to work after all.” But Jim shook his head with a despondent air. “No use expectin’ too much,” he remarked, quoting one of his wife’s favourite speeches; then, as she stared, “I’ll jist see to the little uns an’ help ye a bit with the cleanin’ if I don’t find it knocks me up too much.” Mrs Frisby finished her breakfast in silence, and Jim, after disposing of his meal, turned his attention to the children. “Now then, let’s see how useful you can make yourselves. See, I’ll carry the things over to the sink, and Rosie can wash ’em up, and Jack here can dry them.” “Ye’ll have ’em smashed to atoms,” said Sally sulkily. “Not a bit of it; they’re a deal more in danger of getting smashed lying about, as they generally do, half the morning.” He superintended the carrying out of both operations, and then desired the children to wash their hands and smooth their hair before going to school. “Dear!” he exclaimed, as he clumsily tied a pinafore string. “All your things do seem in terr’ble need of mendin’. I tell ye what, Sally, while you do a bit o’ cleanin’ up I’ll see if I can’t make shift to sew on a button or two.” “I thought you was too bad to work!” exclaimed Sally tartly. “Anybody can do a bit o’ sewin’,” said Jim. “Now, my dear, as soon as ye’ve taken away tea-things, ye can begin on the grate.” Having procured needle and cottons and a card of buttons, a trifle damaged on account of Baby Harry having been allowed to chew it on the day it had been bought, Jim set to work, while Mrs Frisby reluctantly knelt down before the hearth. “Take out the big cinders, Sally,” he directed, “and put ’em on one side. It ’ud save ye a deal o’ trouble,” he continued mildly, “if ye’d do it first thing in the morning, for then the children ’ud give ye a helpin’ hand. Now I think,” said Jim, leisurely threading his needle, “that we’ll have a bit o’ black-lead, my dear. It’s wonderful what a difference it makes to the look of a place.”