early. The kitchen was swept, the beds made, and coffee steaming on the table. Mrs. Woodchuck had dressed the children, and being shortsighted, insisted on buttoning Bulka into the velvet jacket belonging to Ferdinand, the youngest woodchuck, who thereupon burst into loud howls, but the mistake was soon remedied.
After breakfast they were prepared to start on their way, but Mrs. Woodchuck, who was a most hospitable soul, would not hear of this. She had arranged, she said, to invite a few neighbours in that evening to make a little party for Jensina, and it would be too bad to disappoint them.
In return for her kindness Jensina immediately offered to lend a hand with the washing while Mrs. Woodchuck made her preparations for the party. So she set off for the spring, a bundle under each arm, leaving Poor Cecco and Bulka to bring as many more as they could carry, for, she said, one might as well make a good job of it.
The spring was a little distance below the house, in a hollow set about with tall shady grasses. All that Bulka and Poor Cecco need do, therefore, was to stand at the top of the hill and roll the bundles down to her as fast as she needed them, which they did while Jensina spent her day by kneeling at the edge of the spring, splashing merrily about and very contented. By tea time she had washed one hundred and thirteen bundles of laundry, which was certainly, she thought, some little help to her hostess, and as
