“I can’t keep still,” complained Crow Shay; “my foot’s asleep! My, how it hurts!”
“How does it feel?” asked Wooley Ball, in sympathy.
“Just like tiny mosquito bites all over me which scratching won’t help.”
“I guess you mean moth bites!” exclaimed Wooley Ball.
“Will you two keep still?” said the Yarn Baby, tapping upon the knitting bag with her soft little fist. “I think that I hear footsteps.”
“Don’t speak to me now,
Don’t speak to me never;
And I will be quiet