“Do you want to go to school?” asked Miss Florence sympathetically, taking a mouthful of pins and kneeling down to pin up the hem of Meg’s frock.
“Twaddles and I both want to go,” answered Dot. “But that mean old school won’t let you come till you’re five––not even to kindergarten. Did you swallow any?”
“Any what?” asked Miss Florence absently, still pinning the hem.
“Pins,” said Dot interestedly. “I counted three I thought you did. Will they hurt?”
Meg looked down at Miss Florence anxiously.
“Bless your heart, I didn’t swallow any pins!” declared the little dressmaker, smiling. “It’s a bad trick, though, and I always mean to break myself of it. There, Dot, I’ve taken every one out of my mouth. And now walk over by the door, Meg, and let your mother see if that is the right length.”
“Turn ’round slowly,” ordered Dot, as Meg reached the door. Dot had watched a great many dresses being fitted and she knew exactly what one should do. 21
Meg laughed, and began to revolve slowly.
“I think that is a very good length,” said Mother Blossom. “We shan’t need her again till after lunch, shall we, Miss Florence? I want her to go uptown and get some elastic for her hat.”
“And the school things, Mother?” urged Meg. “Can Bobby and I buy our school things this morning?”