Tibbie [pointing and speaking at first slowly and meditatively, then more and more quickly]. I'd take this darling blue girl, and this yellow one, and this cunning little spotted one, and this, and this, and this, and this, and this—— Oh, Sally, if it was only real, and not just let's-pretend! Now it's your turn.
Sally [placing her forefinger pensively against the side of her nose]. For my fifth one, I choose her—her with the little black velvets run all through.
Tibbie [promptly]. Taken already.
Sally. Then her over there with the short puffy sleeves.
Tibbie. Taken!
Sally. She taken, too? Well, then, her in the pink Mother Hubbard, with the little knitting-bag on her arm.
Tibbie. Taken, Sally! Can't you remember anything? Those belong to me; I chose them long ago. These are the not taken ones over here; here, and here, and here, and here, and here, and here, and——
Sally. Aw, you're a great girl! [Suddenly throws her arms around Tibbie and casts herself back on the floor, where they tumble and roll in a frenzy of fun.] Oh, Tibbie, ain't we having a time of it?
Tibbie [almost shouting]. Yes!—ain't we having a time of it!