air and took a short candle out of one of the candlesticks which
they used on the table.

Then he pushed the chair over near where the matches were, and he
climbed up again and got three matches. And then he hurried out again.

He scratched one of the matches on the piazza floor and managed to get
the candle lighted with that first match.

So he dropped the other two matches, he didn't know where, and he
carried his candle to the grocery box, very carefully, so that it
shouldn't blow out, and he reached in and put it in a corner.

Then he lay down on the step and put his head and shoulders and his
arms inside the box, and he took the two short sticks in his hands.

David's mother had heard the chair scraping on the dining-room floor,
when he pushed it over to get the matches, and she thought that, as
likely as not, that was David, and she thought that she had better see
what he was doing.

She didn't think there was any great hurry about it, and so she came
downstairs in a few minutes, and she went out upon the piazza.

There she saw David's body and his fat little legs sticking out
straight on the step, but his head and his arms were in the box, so
she couldn't see them.

[Illustration: PLAYING PLUMBER]

And there was a light flickering inside the box, and there was a noise
of scraping and knocking, once in a while.

But she wasn't surprised.

"What in the world are you doing, dear?" she asked.

David drew his head out of the box so that he could see his mother and
answer her. His face was pretty red.

"I'm a plumber, mother," he said, "and I'm doing the work in the
bathroom. Plumbers _always_ do it this way."

David's mother laughed.

"So they do, dear, pretty nearly," she said. "Be very careful of the
candle, and don't burn yourself or set the box afire, and be sure to
blow it out when you are through."

And David nodded and put his head back in the box, and his mother went
in, smiling.

And his cat came and stood on the cover boards that had been left on,
and she put her head down and peered into the box, but she didn't get
in.

And that's all of the plumber story.

VIII

THE PAINTER STORY

Once upon a time there was a little boy, and he was almost five years
old, and his name was David. And there weren't any other children near
for him to play with, so he used to play happily all by himself.

He had his cat and his cart and his shovel and his hoe, and he always
wore his overall