“And so do I,” said Eva.
“And me, too,” agreed Doris. “I want some real fun—not Mrs. Gray, or the baby, or old Rose, or anything else.”
“Me, too,” chimed in Baby, who was beginning to feel quite grown up since the other baby came.
“Pity somethin’ wouldn’t happen to the twins or something,” said Doris. “Not too bad—only somethin’ or other, I don’t know what.”
“But, of course, nothing will happen,” said Eileen, dismally.
“No, of course it won’t,” agreed Eva.
“No, it never does,” went on Eileen. “It’s the same old thing over and over. Go to bed, get up, have your meals; go to bed again, get up, have your meals,” she repeated like a parrot, and she might have kept on repeating it for another hour or two, only that they saw the mailman coming in the distance, and they wondered if he would bring any letters; but “of course he wouldn’t,” Eileen said; he never did bring letters to them, only once in a blue moon, so what was the use of wondering about him or looking for him or anything else.
“If he don’t bwing letters I—I don’t know what I’ll do,” said Doris. “I wish—I wish a letter’d come to take us away to some place we never heard of,” she went on, not knowing what to wish for.
“Oh, yes, and it might be worse than here!” answered Eileen. “A lot of good that will do you!”
“I don’t know what I’d like,” said Mollie, “but something where we could have plenty of laughing and talking and great fun.”