But people in the nothing-to-do complaint are never quiet for long.  Teazing is quite as constant a symptom of it, as growling, so No. 3 soon came lounging from the window to the table, and began:-

“I say, Judy, I wish you would put those tiresome books, and drawings, and rubbish away, and I think of something to do.”

“But it’s the books, and the drawings, and the rubbish that give me something to do,” cried Aunt Judy.  “You surely don’t expect me to give them up, and go arm and arm with you round the house, bemoaning the slowness of our fate which gives us nothing to do.  Or shall we?  Come, I don’t care; I will if you like.  But which shall we complain to first, mamma, or the maids?”

While she was saying this, Aunt Judy shut up her drawing book, jumped up from her chair, drew No. 3’s arm under her own, and repeated:-

“Come! which? mamma, or the maids?” while Miss Pert opposite was labouring with all her might to smother the laugh she dared not indulge in.

But No. 3 pushed Aunt Judy testily away.

“’Nonsense, Judy! what has that to do with it?  It’s all very well for you girls—­now, Miss Pert, mind your own affairs, and don’t stare at me!—­to amuse yourself with all manner of—­”

“Follies, of course,” cried Aunt Judy, laughing, “don’t be afraid of speaking out, No. 3.  It’s all very well for us girls to amuse ourselves with all manner of follies, and nonsense, and rubbish;” here Aunt Judy chucked the drawing-book to the end of the table, tossed a dictionary after it, and threw another book or two into the air, catching them as they came down.

“—­while you, superior, sensible young man that you are, born to be the comfort of your family—­”

“Be quiet!” interrupted No. 3, trying to stop her; but she ran round the table and proceeded:-

“—­and the enlightener of mankind; can’t—­no, no, No. 3, I won’t be stopt!—­can’t amuse yourself with anything, because everything is so ‘horribly slow, there’s nothing to do,’ so you want to tie yourself to your foolish sister’s apron string.”

“It’s too bad!” shouted No. 3; and a race round the table began between them, but Aunt Judy dodged far too cleverly to be caught, so it ended in their resting at opposite ends; No. 6 and her French exercises lying between them.

“No. 6, my dear,” cried Aunt Judy, in the lull of exertion, “I proclaim a holiday from folly and rubbish.  Put your books away, and put your impertinence away too.  Hold your tongue, and don’t be Miss Pest; and vanish as soon as you can.”

Miss Pert performed two or three putting-away evolutions with the velocity of a sunbeam, and darted off through the door.

“Now, then, we’ll be reasonable,” observed Aunt Judy; and carrying a chair to the front of the fire she sat down, and motioned to No. 3 to do the same, taking out from her pocket a little bit of embroidery work, which she kept ready for chatting hours.