“What shall I wear wound me, Mamma?” asked the dolly. “It’s too warm for a toat, and too told to doe wifout somet’ing wound me.”
“Let me see,” said Mary Frances, thinking hard.
“If Mary M’rie only had a twetter!” sighed the wise young lady.
Mary Frances caught her up in her arms. “The very thing!” she cried. “Let us go see the Crochet People.”
Just as she sat Mary Marie on the table, Crow Shay began:
“For young or old,
When it is cold,
Nothing is better
Than a sweater.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Mary Frances. “Oh, Crow Shay, how did you ever guess what we want so much?”