So the children kissed and made it up, and Charlie promised that he would try not to be such a cry-baby.
III.
There were so many things to see at Aunt Lou’s that the little pilgrim lived out of doors nearly all the time.
“You must come and see my baby-house,” said Nelly; and Bessie wondered if it would be prettier than hers.
It was in a very funny place, for Nellie took her down by the brook; and there was a hollow in a great tree that had a little table in it, and two or three rag dollies sitting by the table, and cups and saucers on it; but the cups and saucers were not like any that Bessie had ever seen before. They were made of acorns, which Jimmie had cut out for her, and the cups looked like little thimbles. Fresh grass was spread down for a carpet, and Nellie told her little cousin that this was her summer-house.
“You see,” she said, “that I can leave my dollies and all out in the rain, and it don’t hurt them a bit. I have nicer ones for in-doors, but I love these just as well, because I can do what I like with them.—Hold up your head, Polly, but don’t stare so at the company; haven’t you any manners?”
Bessie looked all around for the little girl, but she did not see any. Nellie burst out laughing.
“There she is,” said she, pointing to the largest rag doll; “I always talk to her as if she was alive. It’s real fun. This is her sister, Martha Jane. She has fits.”
“My rag doll is Sarah Jane,” said the little pilgrim. “What does Martha Jane have fits for?”
“’Cos she likes ’em,” replied Nellie; “she’d rather have fits than anything else. But Polly likes measles best.”