"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?"
"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, and forget-me-nots dotted all over her dress. And, see! the sky-blue hair-ribbon. If I could just have three of them, 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?"
"Well, I guess I'd choose this one in white."
"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."
"Law! I wouldn't have wanted her if I had known she was a bride! I take this one, Tibbie—this one with the 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—"
"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 rose-bud ones—no, two of them, so's to play I had twins. Say, Sally, let's choose one apiece—first you one, then me one, till we've chosen them all up, and got fifty apiece. Your turn."
They chose and chose, pointing each time, and detailing the costume of the chosen one aloud with the greatest enjoyment.
Jetty had laid himself down beside them, stretched his silky length, his nose between his paws. He was very tired. Perhaps among the things his great moist eyes were wondering about was the reason of this fatigue in his vocal chords.
"For my forty-fifth one," said Sally, placing her forefinger pensively against the side of her nose, "I choose her—her with the little black velvets run all through."