“Not yet,” said Sewing Bird. “Here!” And she jumped up and pecked Mary Frances between her shoulders.
The little girl had the strangest sensation. She suddenly felt as light as air,—as though her body weighed nothing. Her nose felt strange, and she thought she ought to find her handkerchief.
“It was in my pocket, I am sure,” she said, and started to find her pocket. Imagine her surprise when she couldn’t find her hand.
“Why, where can it be?” she thought. “I’ll see if I can move my arm!”
She raised one arm, and then the other, and away she flew. Out the window—and across the blue sky—she, nearly as blue as the sky itself, if she had known it.
Away she flew
“How lovely!” she tried to say aloud, but what she heard herself singing was:
“To float away,