This alarming note of something wrong instantly terrified Toddles and Poddles, who were no sooner heard to roar surprisingly, than Johnny, curving himself the wrong way and striking out at Mrs. Boffin with a pair of indifferent shoes, became a prey to despair. The absurdity of the situation put its pathos to the rout. Mrs. Betty Higden was herself in a moment, and brought them all to order with that speed, that Sloppy, stopping short in a polysyllabic bellow, transferred his energy to the mangle, and had taken several penitential turns before he could be stopped.
“There, there, there!” said Mrs. Boffin, almost regarding her kind self as the most ruthless of women. “Nothing is going to be done. Nobody need be frightened. We’re all comfortable; ain’t we, Mrs. Higden?”
“Sure and certain we are,” returned Betty.
“And there really is no hurry, you know,” said Mrs. Boffin in a lower voice. “Take time to think of it, my good creature!”
“Don’t you fear me no more, ma’am,” said Betty; “I thought of it for good yesterday. I don’t know what come over me just now, but it’ll never come again.”
“Well, then, Johnny shall have more time to think of it,” returned Mrs. Boffin; “the pretty child shall have time to get used to it. And you’ll get him more used to it, if you think well of it; won’t you?”
Betty undertook that, cheerfully and readily.
“Lor,” cried Mrs. Boffin, looking radiantly about her, “we want to make everybody happy, not dismal!—And perhaps you wouldn’t mind letting me know how used to it you begin to get, and how it all goes on?”
“I’ll send Sloppy,” said Mrs. Higden.