“It’s better than hemming,” Peggy said, “because you can take such long spidery stitches. But I just hate sewing. I’m never going to sew when I grow up.”
“But that is just the time you’ll have to sew,” said Alice.
“No, I’m going to be a writing lady.”
“But they have to wear just as many frocks as other people,” said Alice.
“I’ll have them made for me. I’ll get such a lot of money by my writings.”
“You may be married and have to make clothes for your children,” said her mother.
“I’ll just have boys,” said Peggy. “That would be much the best. Then I could climb trees with them and climb over the roofs of houses, and nobody could say, ‘Peggy, you’ll break your neck,’ because I’d be their mother, so everything I did would be all right.”
“Oh, Peggy, you haven’t been putting your mind on your work,” said her mother. “Pull out those last few stitches and do them over again, and think what you are doing and not how you will climb trees with your sons.”
“I’ll have all girls,” said Alice. “Some will be dressed in pink and some in blue.”
“And some in red and some in yellow, and some in purple and some in green,” added Peggy, “and you’ll be called the rainbow family. There, mother, is that any better?”