When dinner was over and the dishes washed, and the room set in order, Annie went and brought from Harcourt’s apartment a bundle of old illustrated papers, which she offered to the child, saying:
“You can get some amusement out of these while I go on with my work, can’t you?”
“Of course I could, but I don’t want to. I would rather sew the buttons on the sacks. Now, you just look at that one and see how well I did it. I didn’t draw the threads too tight because that would pucker the places, but I did sew them on strong, and fasten my ends tight.”
“You did the work very well, indeed, my dear.”
“Hera showed me how, and she took pains to teach me, and I took pains to learn.”
“Who is Hera, dear?”
“Ducky Darling’s mother.”
“Oh!” said Annie, with a smile.
But the shrewd child understood at a glance that she had not been sufficiently explicit, so she added: “Hera is Lady’s poultry woman, and takes care of the chickens, and ducks, and the geese, and turkeys, and Ducky Darling is her little girl, and my little playmate. Dear Ducky Darling! You would love her so much if you knew her. She is so sweet. Now give me some more sacks and buttons, and I will go to work,” said the small old lady, with an air of confidence and responsibility.
Annie gave her the materials, and then sat down to her machine and began to ply it.