So why get mad,
And make all sad?
The little Miss may hear—
So, Tommy, dry up every tear,
And, Thimble, sheath your little spear,
And, Scissors, don’t you act so queer,
Or else your Mistress may appear.”
“Come,
come!
You’re
all in
fun—”
Just at that moment in stepped Mary Frances, who had heard every word. The Thimble People looked silly; but she pretended not to notice.