The little dolls were dressed and undressed, put into the old broken cradle, and taken out again, I don't know how many times. The _boudoir_ was set on one of the shelves I have told you about, and was looked at, but was not handled much, for Alice was very careful of it. The plates and dishes were put on the table and taken off, and put on again, and at last all thrown together in a box under the table. I forgot to tell you about the swing which Mr. Bondy had put up in the garret for the children. It was a stout rope, and hung from the rafters, where it was tightly fastened. An old cushion, which had once been on an arm-chair, served as the seat. When they were tired of their other plays they got on the swing; and when they were tired of swinging they went back to their dolls and dishes, tin trumpet and old cart. By and by they became tired of the garret, and Alice said: "Come, let's go down stairs again." "Sister," said Maggie, "let's have one more swing." "I want another swing, too," said Jimmie. So on the swing they went again. They had not swung long before they heard a step on the stairs. "O," said Alice, "there comes father." They were not afraid to have him come, for he often played with them, and loved to see them enjoy themselves. He had come home from business earlier than usual on account of the rain, and when he found that the children were in the garret he went up to see them. As soon as his head was seen above the garret floor, as he came up stairs, Maggie cried out: "O papa, come give me a swing, and tell me a story, and let me sit in your lap!" "Well, well, miss," said Mr. Bondy laughing, "I think you are asking a great deal at once. I can't swing you, and hold you in my lap, and tell you a story all at the same time." "Well, swing me now," said Maggie, "and then tell me a story." While Maggie was on the swing they were all startled by a singular noise coming from the chimney. They had heard it when they first came up garret, but it was not so loud. They would have gone down stairs then in fear, but they waited a moment, and, as it did not come again, they went on with their play and soon forgot it. But now it became quite loud, and if Mr. Bondy had not been there they would have all run down stairs. But they were not afraid while he was by. It was a strange noise, and I can hardly tell you what it was like, unless it was like something rolling down the chimney. "What is that?" said Abby as she started toward the stairs. Mr. Bondy smiled and said: "Don't be afraid, children, there is nothing here to hurt you." "But what made the noise, papa," said Alice. "What would you think," said her father, "if I should tell you that the noise is made by the folks that live in the chimney?" "Folks in the chimney!" said Mark Mapes. "How could anybody live there?" "O papa is only teasing us with one of his riddles," said Alice. "But there, that's the same noise again. I wish I knew what made it."