"Look at Anna-Margaret!" screamed Edith.
"You, Anna-Margaret, get right back in that crib!" commanded Ruth assuming her mother's tone.
"I won't!" And right over to the chair where her shoes and stockings were, walked the baby. She seated herself on the floor and drew on her stocking as if she had been in the habit of doing it on preceding mornings. It was surprising to Anna-Margaret, herself, the ease with which it went on.
"Look at that child," gasped Ruth.
Edith looked and said a little grudgingly, "I'll bet she can't put on her shoes though." Edith remembered how long it was before she was able to put on her shoes, and this accomplishment, in her mind, seemed to give her a great superiority over her baby sister.
"Come on, Edith," called Ruth, "I'll beat you down to the pump and I'll give you to the rose bush, too."
Struggling, pulling and twisting sat Anna-Margaret all alone, but the shoe would not go on. She was just about to give up in utter despair and burst into tears when Mother Dear appeared in the doorway.
"What is mother's angel doing? Well, well, look at Mother's smart child, she has got on her stocking already,—here, let mother help her."
It was awful to think you were still such a baby that you couldn't do anything yourself, but it was very nice, so Anna-Margaret thought, to have such an adorable mother to come to your rescue.
"There now, run out and tell Ruth to wash your face and then mother will give you your breakfast."