“Don't we have fun?” cried a jubilant Frances.
“Yes,” answered Jimmy; “if grown folks don't all time be watching you and sticking theirselfs in your way.”
“If people would let us alone,” remarked Lina, “we could enjoy ourselves every day.”
“But grown folks got to be so pertic'lar with you all time,” cried Jimmy, “they don't never want us to play together.”
He led the way up the ladder, followed by Frances and Billy; and Lina brought up the rear. The children ran the long length of the porch leaving their footprints on the fresh, sticky paint.
“Will it wash off?” asked Frances, looking gloomily down at her feet, which seemed to be encased in green moccasins.
At that moment she slipped and fell sprawling on top of the roof. When the others helped her to her feet, she was a sight to behold, her white dress splotched with vivid green from top to bottom.
“If that ain't jus' like you, Frances,” Jimmy exclaimed; “you all time got to fall down and get paint on your dress so we can't 'ceive nobody. Now our mamas bound to know 'bout us clamming up here.”
“They would know it anyhow,” mourned Lina; “we'll never get this paint off of our feet. We had better get right down and see if we can't wash some of it off.”
While they were talking the owner of the ladder, who had not noticed them--and was deaf in the bargain--had quietly removed it from the back-porch and carried it around to the front of the house.
The children looked at each other in consternation when they perceived their loss.
“If this ain't just like Billy, all time got to perpose to clam' a ladder and all time got to let the ladder get loose from him,” growled Jimmy. “We done cooked a goose egg, this time. You got us up here, Billy, how you going to get us down?”
“Well, it's Miss Minerva's house and she's your aunt and we's your company and you got to be 'sponsible.”
“I can clam' down this-here post,” said the responsible party.
“I can climb down it, too,” seconded Frances.
“You can't clam' down nothing at all,” said Jimmy contemptuously. “Talk 'bout you can clam' down a post; you'd fall and bust yourself wide open; you 'bout the clumsiest girl there is; 'sides, your legs 're too fat.”
“And have grown folks laughing fit to pop their sides open? I'm 'shame' to go anywheres now 'cause folks all time telling me when I'm going to dye some more Easter eggs! Naw, we better not holler,” said Jimmy. “Ain't you going to do nothing, Billy?”