"It is nothing," she returned.
"But every time you cough," he said with mock-pathos, "one of my heart-strings snaps."
"I should think they'd be about all used up by this time, then."
"Oh! I tie them up again, after the fashion of guitar-strings."
"But a tied-up string cannot give a good sound."
"No," he laughed, "only a kind of melancholy 'bong.' But one gets accustomed to any thing."
"It is a pity," she said, "that these mortal frames cannot be made with less rigging. Think how much simpler it would be to grow like a crystal, without all 'the bother of all the fixin's inside on us,' as Bathalina says."
"But a crystal must have a rather cold existence," he returned. "I prefer our present condition, thank you."
"Patty Sanford," called Dessie Farnam, "do come and tell us how to distribute these costumes!"
"It seems to me," Patience answered, "that the simplest way is to lay all the dresses out in one of the rooms, and draw lots for choice. Then each person can go and choose, and nobody be the wiser."