While Mr. and Mrs. Arnold discussed the questions that were then causing so much trouble, Berry and Mollie had reached the brook and were saying good-bye.
Berry had carefully explained just how Mollie’s doll had been made. “I spread out a piece of white cloth, doubled, and marked a doll out with a piece of charcoal, and then cut it out and stitched the two pieces together, just leaving a place open on top of the head, and then filled her with sawdust, sewed up the open place and covered her head with raveled yarn,” said Berry.
“P’raps I can make one!” Mollie suggested hopefully.
“Of course you could,” Berry agreed promptly.
“I’ll make a black nigger doll, so’s ‘Mrs. Arnold’ can have it for a slave,” said Mollie.
“Oh! Mollie, you can’t! That’s what this war is about; to make white people stop making slaves of black people; it isn’t fair!” declared Berry, and quickly added, “Mollie, why don’t you give your doll an easier name?”
“I don’t know any names. I loves your Ma, an’ I loves this doll; so I calls the doll ‘Mrs. Arnold,’” Mollie responded soberly, “an’ I don’ see no harm in makin’ a nigger doll.”
“Well, Mollie, my mother’s name is Ellen; why don’t you call the doll that?” Berry suggested.
“Oh! Yes! Ellen is lovely. ‘Mrs. Arnold,’ your name is ‘Ellen,’” Mollie promptly informed her doll, holding it out at arm’s length that she might better admire it.
“I’ll start back now,” said Berry. “School is going to be fine, isn’t it, Mollie?”