|Title||The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists|
trouble of dressing you twice.'
`Oh, I don't mind sitting still,' returned Frankie, loftily. `That's very easy.
`I don't mind having to take care of my clothes,' said Frankie as his mother - having washed and dressed him, was putting the finishing touches to his hair, brushing and combing and curling the long yellow locks into ringlets round her fingers, `the only thing I don't like is having my hair done. You know all these curls are quite unnecessary. I'm sure it would save you a lot of trouble if you wouldn't mind cutting them off.'
Nora did not answer: somehow or other she was unwilling to comply with this often-repeated entreaty. It seemed to her that when this hair was cut off the child would have become a different individual - more separate and independent.
`If you don't want to cut it off for your own