"Grandma, what makes you pick over these rags? We can take them just as they are."
"I always do so, my dear, and for several reasons. One is, that woollen pieces may have crept in by mistake. As we profess to sell cotton rags, it would be dishonest to mix them with woollen."
"Yes'm, I understand," said Jennie, who often spoke when it was quite as well to keep silent; "it's always best to be honest—isn't it, Mrs. Parlin?"
The rags were spread out upon the table, giving Flyaway a fine opportunity to scatter them right and left.
"O, here's a splendid piece of blue ribbon to make my doll a bonnet," said Dotty.
"That's another reason why she picks 'em over," remarked Jennie; "so she won't waste things. Only, Dotty, that has got an awful grease-spot."
"There, children," said Mrs. Parlin, presently, "I have taken out a card of hooks and eyes, a flannel bandage, and a shoe-string. You may have everything else."
Dotty caught her grandmother's arm. "Please, grandma, don't sweep 'em into the bag; let us look some more. I've just found a big Lisle glove; if I can find another, then Abner can go blackberrying; he says his hands are ever so tender."
"And you thought he was in earnest," said Prudy. "While you are looking, I'll go into the nursery and finish that holder."
Flyaway, having climbed upon the table, had rolled herself into some mosquito netting, like a caterpillar in a cocoon. They were all so much interested, that grandma, in the kindness of her heart, did not like to disturb them.