"Tell Mrs. Anderson to come too,
or, if she won't leave her husband, Brownie will be delighted at the
chance of getting two children to look after again. Are the cooks quite
cheery, Jim?"
"As cheery as possible," Jim answered. "They got off early to-day, and I
took them and Sister and the Anderson youngsters out for a run. Did 'em
all good. I'm coming home to-night, and they don't want me to-morrow,
because they're going to afternoon tea with some one or other. Flighty
young things, those cooks! So I can help you carpenters or do any odd
jobs."
"We've lots," said Wally, who was putting a finishing coat of dark green
enamel to a rod destined as a towel rail for Tommy's room. "Simple jobs,
suitable for your understanding. Take care, Jimmy, I've a wet paint
brush, and you have a good suit on! I want to put shelves from floor to
ceiling of the bathroom, because the walls are rough and unlined, and
nothing on earth will make it a beautiful room. So Tommy may as well
store there all the things she doesn't want anywhere else. And you can
make her a medicine cupboard. I shan't have time to look at any of you
unskilled labourers, for I'm going to build her a draining-rack for
plates and things over the kitchen sink. And I can tell you, that takes
brains!"
"Then it's not your job!" said Jim definitely.
"Isn't it? I'll show you, you old Bond Street fashion plate!" Wally
stretched his long form, simply attired in a khaki shirt and dungaree
trousers, much be-splashed by paint, and looked scornfully at his neatly
dressed friend.
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