give it to me. I Algy's little help-boy," smiled the cherub.

Catherine tried to take the key, but it refused to come.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "It seems to be caught."

Elsmere squirmed a little. "Tieded," he murmured, and Catherine, bending
closer to investigate, discovered that the key was so secured to the
child's apparel that sharp steel was necessary to sever the connection.

"Algy hasn't too much confidence in his little help-boy, after all," she
thought. "Thank you, Elsmere. Now run along home like a good boy."

"No, Elsmere go, too, like a good boy. I help."

Catherine sighed. The library was to be cleaned that morning as soon as
the girls could be spared by their respective mothers. She had been
waiting for Algernon to bring the key, and had counted on his muscular
assistance in the labor before her. Now, instead, she had only the key,
and that almost as hopelessly affixed to Elsmere as it had been before
she cut it loose. She took up her bundle of rags, scrubbing-brush and
soap resignedly, and calling "Good-by" to Dr. Helen started off down the
hill. On the way she stopped for Agnes, who came out with a broom.
Polly, bearing a pail, met them at the corner. At the library they found
Bertha, mop-laden, pressing her nose against the pane to see inside.

"Hello!" she called to them. "How can we get hot water?"

"Let's go over to Henderson's and borrow a little oil stove for a few
hours, and we'll heat the water in this pail. One of you might go to the
pump in the park and get it full now. Whose broom?" touching one,
leaning by the window.

"Dot's. She came and went off again. Bert passed, driving a ten-cent
express and she hailed him and they've gone over to Mr. Kittredge's to
get the books he promised."

"The crazy children! Where will we ever put books to-day, with the room
in such a state?"

Catherine fitted the key to the lock, and the band of cleaners entered,
unrolled their big aprons and began, with much energy and good nature,
to sweep down the walls and ceiling and gather the milliner's rubbish
into two big baskets found in the shed. Elsmere picked over the pile,
making rapturous discoveries.

"Aren't these very small bushel baskets?" asked Agnes. "They fill up so
fast."

"They're just about the average size, I think," remarked Catherine.
"They don't vary much more than yardsticks do in length! But I do wish
some of those lazy boys were here to carry them out and empty them for
us