"I cannot believe your mother let you do anything of the kind," she was saying.
In Sara's hand was a soaked and shredded umbrella. Alice's silk scarf was dripping. Round Sara's legs was wound a green chiffon length, also part of her spoils. This, too, was soaking, and the color had come off upon her clothes.
"I found Sara lying in the yard," said Tom's mother grimly, "dressed up as you see her, Alice, with an umbrella in one hand and a comb in the other, and Jamie turning the hose on her."
"We didn't play together, Mother," Sara proclaimed; "I just spoke to him once. I told him to turn the hose on me so I could be a mermaid. . . . She said, Grandma, I might dress up like anything I wanted, and if I couldn't get wet how could I be a mermaid?"
"I suppose nothing will happen to them for this," said the grandmother, her voice rising, "but at least, Alice, you might tell me how it was they happened to be doing what they were."
Alice explained to her. She explained about her need for a peaceful day and about her paper.
"Woman and Civics," her mother snorted. "I can tell you, Alice Marcey, when I was young we had more practical civics than you seem to know in this generation. If a woman had wanted a peaceful afternoon, I'll warrant she wouldn't have had to be at any such tricks to get it. In sickness and health, there are times when you need your neighbors, times when children have got to be got rid of. We could nurse our neighbors through their sicknesses and we were not above asking a friend to take care of a couple of children for a few hours. But you don't send a child anywhere unless he's invited, and the more you need your neighbors the less you use them. Why didn't you send the children to me, for goodness' sake?"
