Sally. My soul and body! Did you ever see the like! [Sighs.] And not a pin among 'em. All pearl buttons, and silk tying-strings, and silver hooks and eyes; and, mercy on my soul! a little bit of a pocket in every dress, with its little bit of a lace pocket-handkerchief inside. D'you see that, Tibbie?
Tibbie [breathlessly]. Oh, Sally! Oh, Sally!
Sally. Come on, Tibbie; let's choose the one we would choose to get if we was to get one given us. Now I would like that one in red velvet. It's just so dressy, ain't it, with the gold braid sewed down in a pattern round the bottom. Which would you take?
Tibbie. I should like the one all in white. She must be a bride; see, she has a wreath and veil and necklace. I should like her the very best. But right after that, if I could have two, I should like this other in the shade hat with the forget-me-nots wreath, and forget-me-nots dotted all over her dress. And, see! the sky-blue ribbon. If I could just have three, then I would take this one, too, with the black lace shawl over her head, fastened with roses, instead of a hat. She has such a lovely face! And after her I would choose this one in green—or this one in pink; no, this one here, Sally; just look—this one in green and pink. And you—if you could have more than one, which would you choose, after the red one?
Sally. Well, I guess I should choose this one in white.
Tibbie. Oh, no, Sally, don't you remember? That is the bride, the one I said the very first. You can have all the others, Sally dear, except the bride. But let's see, perhaps there are two brides. Yes!—no!—that is just a little girl in white, without a wreath. Should you like her as well? I was the first to say the bride, you know.
Sally. Law! I wouldn't have wanted her if I'd known she was a bride! I take this one, Tibbie—this one with feathers in her hat. Ain't she the gay girl in red and green plaid? And this purple silk one, and this red and white stripe, and this——
Tibbie. Wait! That's enough; Sally, that makes four for you. It's my turn now. If I could have five, I should take one of the rosebud ones—no, two of them, so's to play I had twins. Say, Sally, what if we could choose one apiece—first you one, and then me one, till we'd chosen them all up, and got fifty apiece!
Sally. What if we could! Wouldn't that be just grand! Tell us some more you'd take.