“Yes, that is what we call it—Tinytown.”
“Why, it’s just like the towns at home,” said Mary Frances, looking closer. “There’s the school and the flag-staff, the public square and the fountain, the church, the fire-house, the stores and houses—just as they are at home! Oh, where did you get it?”
“We found it in your country,” replied the Story Lady; “and we brought it here and set it up just as you see it and named it after Tiny, the girl who discovered it—but it’s a long story.”
“Oh, won’t you tell me the story?”
“Yes; this evening.”
Mary Frances walked all around the fence and examined the little town minutely. “To think of finding that on Story Island!” she exclaimed. At the same time she felt a little pang of homesickness, but said nothing about it.
“Now we must hasten home,” said the Story Lady.
As it was broad daylight, Mary Frances thought it rather strange to hurry so, but just as they reached the castle, darkness fell and the daylight went just as if some one had pressed a button and shut it out.
That evening while they were resting comfortably in their apartments, the Story Lady related Tiny’s Adventures in Tinytown just as they are set down here.