"How did you happen to do that?" asked the Dream, looking interested.
"It was just because that little girl over there kept calling and calling to me. I tried not to hear, at first, but she worried me until I didn't know what I was about."
"What was the matter with her?" asked the Dream.
"Oh, she had got her dress caught on the fence when she was climbing over, and spilled some apples or something out of a basket. There, see how she's torn her dress! It's her own fault! I told her to wait until I got through, and I would help her;—but I was too busy then."
"You told her to wait where? On the fence?"
"Oh, well, I couldn't help it,—it wasn't my fault that she caught her dress, she ought to have been more careful,—and, anyway, I had to nail the sign-board,—that was much more important, wasn't it?"
The Dream turned and looked at the sign-board critically. "Yes," he said, "I suppose it did have to be done in a hurry,—sign-boards don't 'keep' very well."
Marjorie flushed. "But some one might have come along who wanted to know the way."
"Yes," assented the Dream, dryly, "it would have been too bad if some one had come along before you got it put up—that way."
Marjorie's head drooped.