“There is but one needle in the world, your Seamstress-ship,” he said, “which is called the Needle-of-Don’t-Have-to-Try, and the King of the Thimble People has sent it to you by your humble servant,” glancing proudly about.
“Why,” said Mary Frances, scarcely daring to breathe. “Why,—you, you are certainly my own needle book!”
“Needle Book—that’s my name,—and here, dear Mistress, is the Needle-of-Don’t-Have-to-Try.”
The little
girl
hesitated
Mary Frances saw a bright shiny light come from between the opening leaves of Needle Book; then slowly, very slowly, with his tiny little hand, he pulled out what seemed a needle of fire, and dropping on his knees, held it out on both arms toward Mary Frances.
The little girl hesitated. Would it burn her?
“Do not fear,” smiled Fairy Lady. “It will not harm you. The Needle-of-Don’t-Have-to-Try is loaned to you on only one condition: which is, that you will promise to sew some time every day between lesson days.”
“Oh, I promise,” exclaimed Mary Frances. “I do not, dear Sewing Bird Lady, I do not deserve such beautiful kindness!”
She took the Needle-of-Don’t-Have-to-Try from Needle Book.