"Why, my son!" exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, as this vision met her eyes.
"Can't help it, mother,--it won't come off. I've scrubbed and
scrubbed!" the little fellow protested, apologetically.
"Plenty of hot water and soap will prove effectual. But you must
persevere," she went on, good-naturedly. "But what is the reason of
this extraordinary decoration? Do you want to be taken for the
'missing link'?"
Mrs. Gordon was always good friends with her boys. She had a bright,
cheery way of talking to them, of entering into their plans. She
thoroughly appreciated a joke, even a practical one, when it was not
perpetrated at the expense of anybody's feelings. And the lads could
always count upon her interest and sympathy. It was not easy to impose
upon her, though. "I tell you, if a fellow tries, he is always sure to
get the worst of it!" Jim used to say.
"Ah, that is better!" said she, when Jim returned to the dining-room,
his face at last restored to its usual sunburnt hue, and shining from
the effect of a liberal lather of soap-suds, and his hands also of a
comparatively respectable color.
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