‘We will put Nancy Lee to bed, too,’ decided Sally, ‘because she is sure to catch measles from the other children, even if she hasn’t them now.’
So Nancy Lee, stiff and stubby, was snuggled down beside her sister Paulina.
Then came the rosy Dora and Nora and Flora, still smiling sweetly in spite of being put to bed in high black boots and the only dresses they owned in all the world.
‘Now they must have medicine,’ said Sally with spirit. ‘Here are spoons. But we haven’t any bottles. What shall we do?’
‘One can take a cup,’ answered Alice, who had been examining the stove and the little tin cupboard above it, ‘and the other can use this little pail.’
So up and down the row of sufferers went Sally and Alice, armed with their spoons and pail and cup.
‘They must have medicine every two minutes by the clock,’ said Sally, taking from the doll-house the little grandfather clock and setting the tiny pendulum a-swing.
‘It is very thick and black medicine,’ said Alice, stirring round and round in her empty pail. ‘I think thick and black medicine is the best, don’t you?’
‘Always,’ was Sally’s answer, as she lifted poor Paulina to take her tenth dose.
‘See how nicely Tilly Maud drinks her medicine! She doesn’t even make a face,’ said Alice, smiling proudly down on helpless Tilly Maud, who looked as miserable as a dolly could.