“Except when they tumble into bogs,” said Mr. Norton, laughing and pulling Olly forward, who was trying to hide his mud-stockings behind his mother.  “There’s a clean tidy boy to bring to dinner, isn’t he, Aunt Emma?  I think I’ll take him to the yard and pump on him a little before we bring him in.”

Aunt Emma put up her spectacles to look at Olly.

“Why, Olly, I think Mother Quiverquake has been catching hold of you.  Don’t you know about old Mother Quiverquake, who lives in the bogs?  Oh, I can tell you splendid stories about her some day.  But now catch hold of my hand, and keep your little legs away from my dress, and we’ll soon make a proper boy of you again.”

And then Aunt Emma took one of Milly’s hands and one of Olly’s, and up they went to the house.  But I must start another chapter before I begin to tell you what the children saw in Aunt Emma’s house, and of the happy time they spent there.

CHAPTER V

AUNT EMMA’S PICNIC

Instead of taking them straight into the house, however, Aunt Emma took the children up a little shady path which very soon brought them to a white cottage covered with honeysuckle and climbing roses.

“This is where my coachman’s wife lives,” said Aunt Emma, “and she owns a small boy who might perhaps find you a pair of stockings, Olly, to put on while your own are washed.”

Olly opened his brown eyes very wide at the idea of wearing some other little boy’s stockings, but he said nothing.

Aunt Emma tapped at the door, and out came a stout kind-looking woman.

“Mrs. Tyson, do you think your Johnny could lend my little nephew a pair of his stockings while we get his own washed?  Master Olly has been tumbling into a bog by way of making friends with the mountains, and I don’t quite know how I am to let those legs into my dining-room.”

“Dear me, ma’am, but Johnny’ll be proud if he’s got any clean, but I’ll not answer for it.  Won’t ye come in?”

In they walked, and there was a nice tidy kitchen, with a wooden cradle in the corner, and a little fair-haired boy sitting by it and rocking the baby.  This was Johnny, and Olly looked at him with great curiosity.  “I’ve got bigger legs than Johnny,” he whispered solemnly at last to Aunt Emma, while they were waiting for Mrs. Tyson, who had gone upstairs to fetch the stockings.

“Perhaps you eat more bread and milk than Johnny does,” said Aunt Emma, very solemnly too, “However, most likely Johnny’s stockings will stretch.  How’s the baby, Johnny?”

“She’s a great deal better, ma’am,” said the little boy, smiling at her.  Milly and Olly made him feel shy, but he loved Aunt Emma.

“Have you been taking care of her all the morning for mother?”

“Yes, ma’am, and she’s never cried but once,” said Johnny proudly.

“Well done!  Ah! there comes Mrs. Tyson.  Now, Olly, sit up on that chair, and we’ll see to you.”