ke to
know if you has a weal live clown about, 'cos I like clowns and I love
pant'mimes. I went to a pant'mime 'fore mother was took to the
angels."

"Our show is something like a pantomime, and yet it's different,"
replied Aunt Sarah. "Now then, missy, stop talking, for we has no time
to waste. Come over here and let me put this nice stuff on your face.
It won't hurt you one little bit--it's just to make you look a little
browner than you do now, you and little master. Now, come along here,
and let me do it at once. Afterwards, I'll dress you in real pretty
things. You, little missy, shall wear some of my own child's
clothes--the little Rachel what died. My heart broke when she died,
missy, and if I didn't mean to be real kind to you I wouldn't put her
pretty little dress on you, that I wouldn't."

Orion stepped back in some alarm when he saw the woman stirring
something very brown and ugly in a tin can.

"I don't want that horrid stuff on my face," he said.

"But you must have it, master; if you don't, Uncle Ben will use you
dreadful," said the woman. "Now, missy, tell your little brother to be
guided by me. If he don't do what I tell 'im he'll suffer, and I won't
be able to help either of you."

"Don't be silly, Orion," said Diana. "What do a little bwown stuff
matter? And Aunt Sawah's wather a nice sort of woman. I'll do what you
wish, Aunt Sawah." She came up as she spoke, pushed her black, tangled
hair away from her charming little face, and allowed Aunt Sarah to
cover it with the walnut juice. "It's sort of sticky, and it don't
smell nice," said the little girl; "but I spects you can't help it. I
spects you is kind about your heart; isn't you?"

"Yes, my little dear; I try to be," said the woman. "Now, call your
brother over, and let me dye his face and neck and little hands."

"Come 'long, Orion," said Diana; "don't be silly."

"You do look so ugly, Diana," answered Orion.

"Well, what do it matter?" said Diana. "I has to p'ease Aunt Sawah;
she's a nice sort of a woman. I wather like her."

Orion, who had always submitted to Diana, submitted again now as a
matter of course. The walnut dye was not pleasant; he felt quite
sticky and uncomfortable, but he allowed it to cover his little face
and his white neck and hands.

The dye dried very quickly, and the children looked as like two
gypsies as possible when they surveyed one another.

"Now, I'm going to fetch the clothes," said Aunt Sarah.

She le