s looked like overfed boa constrictors, but
I didn't dream things were as bad as this. You had better let
Innocentina and me do the work for you. We're what you call 'nailers'
at it, I assure you."

I made a snatch at a dressing-gown, which I rescued from the
conglomerate heap before he could push me away. Then, with the
garment hung over my arm, I stood by helplessly with Joseph, while
Innocentina and the Boy, with incredible swiftness and skill, set
about the business from which I had been dismissed. Somewhat after
this fashion must the work of Creation have been done, when there was
only Chaos to begin upon.

In five minutes all my scattered horrors had been sorted neatly,
according to their species, like the animals forming in procession for
the ark; collars after their kind; boots after their kind; and so on,
down to the humble shoestring and mean shirt-stud. Never had those
loathsome inventions of an evil mind, my hold-alls, so closely
resembled self-respecting members of the luggage fraternity as they
did when the Boy and Innocentina had finished with them.

With a sigh of relief the Little Pal jumped up from his grim task,
leaving Joseph to fasten the straps; and as he got to his feet, his
small hands purple with cold, I wrapped the dressing-gown round his
shoulders. Then, seeing his slight figure engulfed in it, like a very
small pea in a very big pod, I burst out laughing.

"Is _that_ what you wanted?" cried the Boy. "I won't have it. I won't!
I'd rather freeze than be a guy. Put it on yourself."

"I don't need it. It was for you. Don't be ungrateful, after all my
trouble."

"All _my_ trouble, you mean. Take off the horrid thing. I won't wear
it. Let me alone."

Unmoved by his complaints, I still held him prisoner, using the
dressing-gown as a strait-jacket, while he fought in my grasp. A
sudden suppressed giggle from Innocentina at this juncture seemed to
drive him to frenzy.

"If you don't let me go, I'll--I'll box your ears!" he stammered.

"Try it," I advised sternly.

He could not move his arms, so closely I held him, but his eyes were
blazing.

"You'll be sorry for this some day," he panted.

"Will you keep on the dressing-gown, if I let you go?".

"No."

"Then will you wear my coat?"

"What! And have you in your shirt-sleeves? Rather not. Let me----"

"I'll give you the coat and wear the dressing-gown myself. _I'm_ not
as vain as a girl."

Whether the thought of what my appearanc