"Pooh! the sun dried them up."
"No, he didn't; the fairies came and took them away. Of course you can't see the fairies, and that's why people think the sun dries up the webs." Kitty spoke as one with authority, and into her eyes came the faraway look that always appeared when her imagination was running riot. For a really practical child, Kitty had a great deal of imagination, but the two traits never conflicted.
"This is Molly's window," said Marjorie, dismissing the question of fairies as they reached Mr. Moss's house.
"Why don't you whistle or call her?" suggested Kitty.
"No, that might wake up her father and mother. And besides, throwing pebbles is lots more fun. Let's get a handful from the drive. Get both hands full."
In a moment four little hands were filled with pebbles.
"Wait a minute," said thoughtful Kitty; "let's pick out the biggest ones and throw them away. Some of these big stones might break a window."
So the girls sat down on the front steps and carefully assorted their pebbles until at last they had their hands filled with only the tiniest stones.
"Now the thing is to throw straight," said Marjorie.
"You throw first," said Kitty, "and then I'll follow."