"I was sewing on this very block," Mollie Elliot is saying, leaning back in her chair to survey her work, "when Aunt Ruth was telling us how Captain Bobtail's Brownie brought Tufty home.
"That pink-and-gray block over there in the corner," said Fannie Eldridge, pointing with her needle, "was the first one I sewed on. I made awful work with it, too; for when Dinah Diamond set herself on fire with the kerosene lamp I forgot what I was about, and took ever so many long puckery stitches that had to be picked out,"
"If I should sleep under that bed-quilt," said Sammy Ray (Sammy and Roy had been invited to attend this last meeting of the Society), "what do you suppose I should dream about?"
No one could imagine.
"A white horse and a yellow dog," the boy said, "'cause I liked those stories best."
"Yes," said Mollie; "and of course Nellie Dimock would dream about cats, wouldn't you, Nell? and Roy Tyler about moths and butterflies, and Florence Austin about birds, and I—well, I should dream of all the beasts and the birds Aunt Ruth has told us about, all jumbled up together."
"I shall always remember one thing," Nellie Dimock said, "when I think about our quilt."
"What is that, Nellie?"
"Not to step on an ant-hill if I can possibly help it, because it blocks up the street, and the little people have to work so hard to cart away the dirt."
"I ain't half so afraid of worms as I used to be," Eliza Ann Jones announced, "since I've found out what funny things they can do; and next summer I'm going to make some butterflies out of fennel-worms,"