There were two more doors; one led to a pretty white bathroom, and the other to a little dining-room, lined with mirrors.
“I can’t get lonesome,” thought Mary Frances, “with so many ‘me’s’ about me;” and she laughed, and, just as she laughed, food appeared on the table. There were chicken soup, and celery, and olives, and crackers.
“Oh, dear! How hungry I am!” she exclaimed. “I guess this is meant for me;” and she sat down on the one chair at the table and began to eat the soup.
“I feel lots better!” said she, finishing the last drop. “It’s not good table manners to tip this plate,” she thought; “but I guess my reflections will excuse me,” and she bowed to the pictures of herself in the mirrors, and laughed.
Then suddenly the soup course disappeared from the table, and in its place there were roast turkey and cranberry sauce, and roasted sweet potatoes and apple sauce, and the many other things which go to make an all-around feast.
“How wonderful!” exclaimed Mary Frances, helping herself to turkey. “But how stupid to eat by myself, with only myself for company.” Just then she looked out of the porthole window and saw the dolphin, swimming ahead of the little ship.
“I’ll go invite the dolphin to dinner,” she thought; and went on deck.
Imagine her surprise to find that there was no land in sight. Neither was there any ship. The only other thing than the dolphin was the sea-gulls flying overhead.
“Hallo! Hallo!” shouted Mary Frances, making a trumpet of her hands. “Mr. Dolphin, Mr. Dolphin, one moment, please!”
The dolphin turned and looked at her. “Yes?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.