the painter had just finished putting a bright green coat of paint upon the low, flat roof of miss minerva's long back-porch. and he left his ladder leaning against the house while he went inside to confer with her in regard to some other work.

billy, jimmy, frances, and lina had been playing “fox and geese.” running around the house they spied the ladder and saw no owner to deny them.

“le's clam' up and get on top the porch,” suggested jimmy.

“aunt minerva'll put me to bed if i do,” said billy.

“mother'll make me learn a whole page of the catechism if i climb a ladder,” said lina.

“my mama'll shut me up in the closet, but our mamas aren't bound to know 'bout it,”—this from frances. “come on, let's climb up.”

“i ain't neverpromise not to clam' no ladder but—” billy hesitated.

“you-all 'bout the skeeriest folks they is,” sneered jimmy. “mama'll whip me going and coming if she finds out 'bout it, but i ain't skeered. i dare anybody to dare me to clam' up.”

“i dare you to climb this ladder,” responded an accommodating frances.

“i ain't never tooken a dare yet,” boasted the little boy proudly, his foot on the bottom rung. “who's going to foller me?”

“don't we have fun?” cried a jubilant frances.

“yes,” answered jimmy; “if grown folks don't all time be watching you and sticking theirselfs in your way.”

“if people would let us alone,” remarked lina, “we could enjoy ourselves every day.”

“but grown folks got to be so pertic'lar with you all time,” cried jimmy, “they don't never want us to play together.”

he led the way up the ladder, followed by frances and billy; and lina brought up the rear. the children ran the long length of the porch leaving their footprints on the fresh, sticky paint.

“will it wash off?” asked frances, looking gloomily down at her feet, which seemed to be encased in green moccasins.

at that moment she slipped and fell sprawling on top of the roof. when the others helped her to her feet, she was a sight to behold, her white dress splotched with vivid green from top to bottom.

“if that ain't jus' like you, frances,” jimmy exclaimed; “you all time got to fall down and get paint on your dress so we can't 'ceive nobody. now our mamas bound to know 'bout us clamming up here.”

“they would know it anyhow,” mourned lina; “we'll never get this paint off of our feet. we had better get right down and see if we can't wash some of it off.”

while they were talking the owner of the ladder, who had not noticed them—and was deaf in the bargain—had quietly removed it from the back-porch and carried it around to the front of the house.

the children looked at each other in consternation when they perceived their loss.

“what we goin' to do now?” asked billy.

“if this ain't just like billy, all time got to perpose to clam' a ladder and all time got to let the ladder get loose from him,” growled jimmy. “we done cooked a goose egg, this time. you got us up here, billy, how you going to get us down?”

“i didn't, neither.”

“well, it's miss minerva's house and she's your aunt and we's your company and you got to be 'sponsible.”

“i can clam' down this-here post,” said the responsible party.

“i can climb down it, too,” seconded frances.

“you can't clam' down nothing at all,” said jimmy contemptuously. “talk 'bout you can clam' down a post; you'd fall and bust yourself wide open; you 'bout the clumsiest girl there is; 'sides, your legs 're too fat.”

“we can holla,” was lina's suggestion.

“and have grown folks laughing fit to pop their sides open? i'm 'shame' to go anywheres now 'cause folks all time telling me when i'm going to dye some more easter eggs! naw, we better not holler,” said jimmy. “ain't you going to do nothing, billy?”

“i'll jest slide down this-here post and git the painter man to bring his ladder back. y' all wait up here.”

billy's solution of the difficulty seemed the safest, and they were soon released from their elevated prison.

“i might as well go home and be learning the catechism,” groaned lina.

“i'm going to get right in the closet soon's i get to my house,” said frances.

“go on and put on your night-shirt, billy.” billy took himself to the bath-room and scrubbed and scrubbed; but the paint refused to come off. he tiptoed by the kitchen where his aunt was cooking dinner and ran into his own room.

he found the shoes and stockings which were reserved for sunday wear, and soon had them upon his little feet.

miss minerva rang the dinner-bell and he walked quietly into the dining-room trying to make as little noise and to attract as little attention from his aunt as possible; but she fastened her eyes at once upon his feet.

“what are you doing with your shoes on, william?” she asked.

billy glanced nonchalantly at her.

“don't you think, aunt minerva,” he made answer, “i's gittin' too big to go 'thout any shoes? i's mos' ready to put on long pants, an' how'd i look, i'd jest like to know, goin' roun' barefooted an' got on long breeches. i don' believe i'll go barefooted no mo'—i'll jest wear my shoes ev'y day.”

“i just believe you won't. go take them off at once and hurry back to your dinner.”

“lemme jest wait tell i eats,” he begged, hoping to postpone the evil hour of exposure.

“no, go at once, and be sure and wash your hands.”

miss minerva spied the paint the instant he made his second entrance and immediately inquired, “how did you get that paint on your feet?”

the little boy took his seat at the table and looked up at her with his sweet, attractive, winning smile.

“paint pertec's little boys' feets,” he said, “an' keeps 'em f'om gittin' hurted, aunt minerva, don't it?”

miss minerva laid down her fork and gave her nephew her undivided attention.

“you have been getting into mischief again, i see, william; now tell me all about it. are you afraid of me?”

“yas 'm,” was his prompt response, “an' i don't want to be put to bed neither. the major he wouldn't put little boys to bed day times.”

she blushed and eyed him thoughtfully. she was making slow progress with the child, she knew, yet she still felt it her stern duty to be very strict with him and, having laid down certain rules to rear him by, she wished to adhere to them.

“william,” she said after he had made a full confession, “i won't punish you this time for i know that jimmy led you into it but—”

“naw'm, jimmy didn't. me an' him an' frances an' lina's all 'sponsible, but i promise you, aunt minerva, not to clam' no mo' ladders.”