"No; it's my mi—mi—mi—Boo-hoo! My mi—Oh, Boo-hoo!" and the kangaroo cried harder than ever.
"It must be her mince-pie," suggested Aunt Em.
"Or her milk-toast," proposed Uncle Henry.
"I've lost my mi—mi—mittens!" said the kangaroo, getting it out at last.
"Oh!" cried the Yellow Hen, with a cackle of relief. "Why didn't you say so before?"
"Boo-hoo! I—I—couldn't," answered the kangaroo.
"But, see here," said Dorothy, "you don't need mittens in this warm weather."
"Yes, indeed I do," replied the animal, stopping her sobs and removing her paws from her face to look at the little girl reproachfully. "My hands will get all sunburned and tanned without my mittens, and I've worn them so long that I'll probably catch cold without them."
"Nonsense!" said Dorothy. "I never heard before of any kangaroo wearing mittens."
"Didn't you?" asked the animal, as if surprised.