"Oh, dear!" she said, "I feel's if both my arms had turned to lead. Here, Rebecca, I'm goin' to see if I can roll your ball o' yarn along the floor through the kitchen door. The centrifugal force will bring it to you. Then you can cut the yarn an' tie somethin' on the end for me to eat an' I'll haul it back through the door."
"That's jest the thing, Phœbe. Go on—I'm ready."
The theory seemed excellent, as Rebecca had fortunately been working with a very tough flaxen yarn; but so great was the apparent weight of Phœbe's arms that it was only after a long series of trials ending in failures that she finally succeeded.
"I've got it!" cried Rebecca, triumphantly. "Now, then, I've got a slice of ham and two slices of bread——"
"Don't send ham," said Phœbe. "I'd be sure to eat it if I had it, an' 'twould make me fearful dry. I'm sure I don't see how I'm to get any water in here."
"Thet's so," said Rebecca. "Well, here's an apple and two slices of bread."
"Are you keepin' enough for yourself, Rebecca?"
"Enough an' to spare," she replied. "Now, then—all ready! Pull 'em along!"
Phœbe obeyed and soon had secured possession of the frugal meal which Rebecca had been able to convey to her.
She offered a portion of her ration to Droop, but he declined it, saying he had no appetite. He had lapsed into a kind of waking reverie and scarce knew what was going on about him.