"Does we have any gold dollies to the cassil?"
"O, yes, Queenie; all sizes."
"Does we have," continued Flyaway, winking slowly, "does we have—dip toast?"
"Why, Queenie, what should we want of that? Yes, we can have dip toast, I s'pose; the girl can make it on the gold stove, with a silver pie-knife. But we shall have nicer things than ever you saw."
"Nicer than turnipers?"
"Pshaw! turnovers are nothing, Queenie; we shall give them to the piggy. We shall live on wedding cake and strawberries. Tea and coffee, and such low things, we shall give to ducks. O, what ducks they will be! They will sing tunes such as canaries don't know how. We'll give them our tea and coffee, and we'll drink—what d'ye call it? O, here's some."
Dotty took up the pail.
"You see how white it is; sugar frosting in it. Drink a little, it's so nice."
"It tastes just like moolly cow's milk," said Flyaway, wiping her lips with her finger.
"No," said Dotty, helping herself; "it's nectar; that's what Susy says they drink; now I remember."