ferent voice than they had ever heard from easy-going, good-natured Jud. "What's that in the barrel?"
"We were helping Dot," said Bobby. "She got juice all on her dress, and, honest, she's worn eleven this week. So we thought we ought to wash this one."
"I see," replied Jud slowly. "Do you know you've spoiled a barrel of soft rain water that's worth considerable? To say nothing of soap."
"We used the green soap we found on the beam," put in Twaddles.
"You perfect imps!" groaned poor Jud. "That's my harness soap. I don't see how your town gets along with all four of you the year around. Well, you can just help me bail out this water—that's flat. Wring out that pesky wash and spread it on the grass to dry. Then each of you take one of those lard pails, and set to work."
