“So do I. I’m learning to sing, too. That’s why I wear this boa, I have to take such care of my throat.”
“Are you warm enough here?” inquired the china hostess, who overheard her paper guests’ conversation; “because, if you aren’t, we can light a fire for you.”
“I do feel a little chilly,” began the paper belle, and then Pinkie’s voice suddenly resumed its natural tones:
“Oh, Dolly, let’s make a fire in the little stove,—a real fire. You said your aunt used to do it.”
“Yes, she did,” said Dolly. “Do you know how?”
“Why, yes; you only put in snips of paper and light ’em. The smoke goes out through the pipe.”
Carefully, the girls put crumpled bits of paper into the little iron stove, and then Dolly brought a match.
“You light it,” she said, and Pinkie struck the match, and touched off the paper.
They shut the tiny stove door, and the paper blazed away merrily. Some smoke came out through the tin pipe, but there wasn’t much of it, and as the windows of the playroom were all wide open, the smoke soon drifted away.
This was a great game indeed, and the guests from the parlour all crowded down into the dining-room to get warm.