As usual they were all doing something for Mary Ellen. Grandmama Camp was embroidering on a little petticoat. The others were embroidering too, or crocheting, except the oldest two of the great-grandmothers. Mrs. Day was knitting a yarn stocking about the size for a little girl of six, Old Lady Lois was pasting colored pictures in a scrap-book.
They were talking of the child. “I often wonder how she is ever going to know us apart,” Grandmama Lee was saying. “Six of us!”
Mrs. Persis laughed. “Poor baby! who ever before heard of six grandmothers in one house! just how she will learn to tell us apart is a question!”
“MRS. PERSIS.”
“I never thought we resembled one another,” remarked Great-grandmother Day.
No, they did not.
MRS. CAMP AND OLD LADY LOIS.
There was Grandmama Lee, and Great-grandmother Lee who was called “Mrs. Persis,” and Great-grandmother Day. These three belonged to Papa Dick and had lived in the house ever since he could remember. Grandmama Lee, Papa Dick’s mother, was young and plump and smiling, with nut-brown hair waving over her forehead—a very nice grandmother. Great-grandmother Lee, “Mrs. Persis,” was roly-poly with a double chin, puffs of white hair, bright eyes, and any of the cats sat on her shoulder when they liked. Great-grandmother Day was the one who walked with a cane and wore caps.