d washed up all their
dolls' clothes in the brook. Asia would not have them "slopping round"
in her kitchen, and the bath-room was forbidden since Nan forgot to turn
off the water till it overflowed and came gently dripping down through
the ceiling. Daisy went systematically to work, washing first the white
and then the colored things, rinsing them nicely, and hanging them to
dry on a cord fastened from one barberry-bush to another, and pinning
them up with a set of tiny clothes-pins Ned had turned for her. But Nan
put all her little things to soak in the same tub, and then forgot them
while she collected thistledown to stuff a pillow for Semiramis, Queen
of Babylon, as one doll was named. This took some time, and when Mrs.
Giddy-gaddy came to take out her clothes, deep green stains appeared on
every thing, for she had forgotten the green silk lining of a certain
cape, and its color had soaked nicely into the pink and blue gowns, the
little chemises, and even the best ruffled petticoat.

"Oh me! what a mess!" sighed Nan.

"Lay them on the grass to bleach," said Daisy, with an air of
experience.

"So I will, and we can sit up in the nest and watch that they don't blow
away."

The Queen of Babylon's wardrobe was spread forth upon the bank, and,
turning up their tubs to dry, the little washerwomen climbed into the
nest, and fell to talking, as ladies are apt to do in the pauses of
domestic labor.

"I'm going to have a feather-bed to go with my new pillow," said Mrs.
Giddy-gaddy, as she transferred the thistledown from her pocket to her
handkerchief, losing about half in the process.

"I wouldn't; Aunt Jo says feather-beds aren't healthy. I never let my
children sleep on any thing but a mattress," returned Mrs. Shakespeare
Smith, decidedly.

"I don't care; my children are so strong they often sleep on the
floor, and don't mind it," (which was quite true). "I can't afford nine
mattresses, and I like to make beds myself."

"Won't Tommy charge for the feathers?"

"May be he will, but I shan't pay him, and he won't care," returned Mrs.
G., taking a base advantage of the well-known good nature of T. Bangs.

"I think the pink will fade out of that dress sooner than the green mark
will," observed Mrs. S., looking down from her perch, and changing the
subject, for she and her gossip differed on many points, and Mrs. Smith
was a discreet lady.

"Never mind; I'm tired of dolls, and I guess I shall put them all away
and