Frederick took it with shining eyes, and held it closely.
“Oh, Rose, is it truly? And where am I to take it?” he asked.
“Why, Fred, you ‘pretend’ splendidly,” said his sister. “I suppose you’d really like to be messenger for Washington, but that isn’t it, you know. Just unroll that package and tell me how good a doll you can make.”
“Make a doll!” Fred flung the little bundle to the floor and looked ready to cry. “I suppose you think it’s funny to make me believe I could do something to help Washington, when you really just had an old wooden doll to show me.”
“Now, Fred,” and Rose put her hand on her brother’s shoulder, “own up that I didn’t say a word to make you imagine such a thing. You know I didn’t! I asked you if you would do something for me, and not let any one know.”
“Well, I might have known nothing interesting would happen to me,” said Frederick. “Nothing ever does,” and he regarded poor “Martha Stoddard” with scornful eyes.
“I want you to make a wooden doll as nearly like this one as you can,” said Rose. “Millicent has taken possession of this one, and it’s the only doll Anne has, and I’m sure that she doesn’t want Millicent to have it. I thought if you could make one just like it that Millicent would like the new one better, and then Anne could have her own.”
“All right,” but Fred’s voice was a little surly.
“And as for nothing happening to you, Fred, you ought to be thankful that nothing does happen, and that we are all safe and well. Suppose the British had won the battles at Concord and Lexington and Bunker Hill,” and Rose looked at her small brother more sternly than ever before. “I could tell you of something very pleasant that is going to happen to you,” she concluded.
“What is it, Rose?” and Fred was again eager and hopeful.