"WELL," said Aunt Louise, looking up from the last spoonful of her ice-cream, "this has certainly been a most delightful housewarming."

The moment that Aunt Louise, with Uncle George and the baby, had appeared on the front steps, Ruth and Paul had rushed out to capture her and escort her over the play-house. She had admired Ruth's room, praised the spotless bathroom, exclaimed over the convenient kitchen and now, as she looked around at the work-play-study-living-room, she patted Paul's hand and gave Ruth a squeeze. "It is just perfect," she said, "and I hope it will always stay so."

"What makes you say that?" asked Ruth, looking a little troubled. "Why shouldn't it stay so?”

"Why, Ruthie," said Aunt Louise, "you know there is a saying, 'A new broom sweeps clean.' That is another way of saying that when a thing is new, it is easy to keep it pretty and take good care of it, but when it is an old story and we are not so interested in it, we are tempted to neglect it."

"I see what you mean," replied Ruth. "When Dorothy Frost first had her bicycle, she used to polish the handle-bars every day and throw a cloth over it at night, to keep off the dust, but now she leaves it out in the rain and doesn't care how it looks."

"But we aren't going to be that way about this play-house," cried Paul. "We've settled just how to take care of it. Ruth is going to see to her room and the bathroom and kitchen, and I am going to see to this room and the porches. Of course, if Jim Nixon or any of the other boys come in and we make candy, we'll clear up the kitchen, and if Ruth has any of the girls here in this room, they'll clear up after themselves, but generally I take care of this room and she takes care of the kitchen."

"That sounds like a fair division of labor," said Uncle George.

"Oh, we have it all beautifully arranged," said Ruth, and she ran across the room to her desk. "Yesterday I made a list for Paul and one for me. They are like the marketing list that I made for the kitchen, only instead of the things to be bought, they are lists of the things about the house that we each have to do."

Aunt Louise studied the two lists with interest.

"It looks to me as if you were going to be first-rate housekeepers," she said.

"I don't suppose," said Uncle George, with a teasing smile, "that Ruth will ever leave Edith Louise on the kitchen table, or Paul will throw his cap on the mantel-piece."

"Oh," admitted Ruth, "I suppose we shall forget for a while, but Mother thought of a splendid scheme."

“Yes,

"chimed in Paul. "Do come out on the porch, Uncle George, and see.'

So they all adjourned to the porch, where Paul pointed out the two boxes, with hinged lids, that had been made into seats on each side of the porch. "This one has the tools and croquet set in it," he explained, "but this one we are going to call the 'Pound,' because all the mislaid things go into it.”

Uncle George stooped down to read the inscription on the box. It was labeled POUND, in large

letters, and underneath was a card on which Ruth had printed:

"If you leave your things around,

They'll surely get into the Pound."

"And who puts things into the Pound?" inquired Aunt Louise.

"Whoever finds them," said Paul. "Yesterday I put two of Ruth's handkerchiefs in, because she has a way of tucking them under her chair cushion when she's reading."

"Yes," said Ruth, "and I put in Paul's baseball mitt and I was just going to put his knife in when he saw it and whisked it into his pocket."

"Dear me," said Uncle George, "and do the mislaid things have to spend the rest of their days in the Pound?"

"Oh, no," said Paul. "You see, here inside is a pasteboard box. When you want to get anything out of the Pound, you must put a cent into the box."

"And what will you do with the money?" asked Uncle George. "If you keep on, the box will be full of pennies."

"Oh, no," cried Ruth, "I have almost broken myself of leaving Edith Louise around and pretty soon I'll have cured myself of that trick of tucking my handkerchief away. But I suppose for a while Paul will forget. We're going to use the money for popcorn and nuts and things, so as to make candy when we have company."

"Bet you I don't forget so much as you do!" cried Paul, indignantly.

""The

"Well, well," said Mother, soothingly. proof of the pudding is in the eating,' and the proof of who is neater will be who has fewer pennies in the box. Now suppose we go inside again. It's rather cool out here and I think a little fire on the hearth would be pleasant."

So they sat in a circle about the blazing fire, watching the crinkly lines of flame run along the logs"like the rivers on a map," as Paul said.

"What do you see in the fire, Uncle George?" asked Ruth.

Uncle George leaned forward and stared into the leaping flames. "Over in the corner, under the big