A Sweet Little Maid Part 10

"No," he said, laughing, "only a cabinetmaker. I came over with a message from my mother to Mrs. Dallas, and a message from myself to yourselves."

"Have you given mamma her message?" asked Dimple.

"Yes," said he, "and mine is that I want you to come to tea with me to-morrow evening, you and Florence and the dolls."

"Oh, the dolls?"

"Yes, the dolls. I will come for you, if you like, at half-past four."

"Did mamma say we might go?"

"Yes, so it is all settled."

"Now," said Florence, "we _must_ make the dolls new frocks. Do tell us, Rock, what they ought to wear."

Rock turned over the bits of stuff in Dimple's box. "White, I think,"

said he; "that dotted stuff is pretty."

"Oh, yes," said Dimple, "and I have plenty of that. We can trim them with this lace, Florence, and they will look so cool and nice. Now if mamma only had time to make hats for them!"

"I'll make them hats," said Rock.

"You! Whoever heard of boys making hats for dolls?"

"Did you never hear of a man-milliner?" asked Rock. "And men dressmakers? I have. You stay here. I am going to ask your mamma for something to make them of."

"Isn't he a funny boy, Florence?" said Dimple, as Rock disappeared; "but I think he is real nice. Just hand me the scissors, won't you? Which way does this go, so, or so?"

"So, like mine. Are you going to make a wide or a narrow hem?"

"Wide, if the stuff is long enough; it isn't so easy, but it looks nicer. I wonder if mamma will give us fresh ribbons for sashes for the dolls; it will set them off so."

"Here comes Rock," exclaimed Florence, "and what has he in his hand? An old bonnet, I declare."

"Now," said Rock, "if you will tell me where I can get a basin of water, I will make the hats."

"With water?"

"I shall need water. Don't get up--Bubbles will get it for me," as Dimple was about to put down her work.

Bubbles brought the water, and Rock began to rip the straw bonnet to pieces; then he dampened it a little and sewed it into shape, once in a while dampening it more to give it the right turn. "Will you have a wide or a narrow brim?" he asked.

"Oh, just a between brim. Don't you say so, Florence? Isn't it going to be lovely? Did you ever?" as Rock handed her a cunning little straw hat.

"Now for the other one," said he, and he soon had that done too.

A little narrow ribbon and one or two flowers made the hats perfect.

"Oh, Rock, I wish you were my brother," sighed Dimple, as she held her doll off at arm's length to admire her. "Rubina, you are a darling! blue is _so_ becoming to her."

"I almost wish I had trimmed mine with blue," said Florence, regretfully.

"Oh, I think pink is just as pretty," exclaimed Rock, "and it is nicer not to have them both alike."

"Now what are you making?" asked Dimple, as Rock went on sewing straw.

"Baskets."

"Baskets, for the dolls?"

"Yes, for the dolls, or you either."

Dimple put her chin in her hands, and leaned on the arm of her chair to watch him.

"How clever you are," she said, "I wish you were my brother, really and truly, Rock."

"Well, we will pretend I am," said he. "What shall I put in your basket, sister?"

They all laughed.

"I don't think it will hold much, but Rubina can put her work in it.

See, if I pin her arm up so, she can hold it nicely. There! I must go and show it to mamma. I'll tell her to adopt you," she called back, as she ran off.

"Now I must clear up my sc.r.a.ps," said Rock, as he put the finis.h.i.+ng touches to the other basket.

"Mamma says I may gather you some flowers," said Dimple, coming out again with a pair of shears in her hand, "and she says you are a very nice boy, a very nice boy indeed."

Rock laughed. "She wouldn't think so sometimes," said he. "I don't believe she wants to change children with my mother."

"I hope she doesn't want to," said Dimple, then added quickly, "Not that I don't think your mother is real nice, Rock, but you know I am so used to mine, and she is so used to me."

"Of course," said Rock, laughing again. "I didn't mean they would change, or even think of it."

"Now let's get the flowers," said Dimple; "you are to choose just which you like best, Rock," she said, leading the way to the flower-beds. "The pansies are almost gone, but there are plenty of roses yet, and verbenas, and mignonette, and lots of things."

"Now, Rock," she said, as they went along the paths, "you are not choosing the prettiest ones at all. I believe you are picking out the mean ones on purpose; I am going to choose myself. You tell me, Florence, whenever you see a real pretty one."

Florence promised, and Rock looked on, secretly pleased that they had taken the matter into their own hands.

"What lovely ones you have chosen," he said, as Dimple gave the bunch into his hands. "Thank you so much."

"And thank you, so much," said the girls, "for the hats, and the baskets, and the invitation."

"You will be sure to be ready," he said, at the gate.

"Yes," they cried.

"At half-past four?"