"You know we never had a baby-house."
"No, nebber had no baby-'ouse."
"Oh, say yes!"
"'Ay 'et!"
"Do, do!"
"Pede do!"
Then, before she knew what she was to do, or say, or what she never had done, or said, we coaxed her to the back door and pointed to our treasure. She couldn't refuse us, and the box was given to us.
John made us a card-board chimney, and cut a square window in either end, for, of course, we set it on its feet, turning its back to the lane against whose fence it stood, looking into the yard. Grandma gave us red curtains for the windows, and a big striped apron, which hung across the front and did for a door. We had to have a door, for, when we took tea, the chickens came, without invitation, peeping inside, looking for crumbs. And, seeing what looked like a party, down flew, with a whir and rustle, a flock of doves, saying, "Coo-oo! how do-oo-do!" and prinking themselves in our very faces. Yes, we really had too many of these surprise-parties; for, another time, it was a wasp that came to tea, and flew from me to Katy, and from Katy to me, till we flew, too, to hide our heads in grandma's lap. Then she gave us the apron, which was very grand, though the blue stripes were walking into the red ones, and there were a good many little holes which let small arrows of light fly out. That was when we lighted the chandelier, and they (the holes and the arrows) were the very things to let people know what grand doings there were inside.
Then, when our crockery was arranged on the shelf at the back, a stool set in the middle for a table, our two small green chairs placed one at either end, and a good many nails driven into the "walls" to serve as hooks,—then we gave a party. The dolls were invited, of course, and their invitations Katy wrote on her slate. To be sure, the letters looked a good deal like Jack and Jill,—climbing up hill and tumbling down again,—still the dolls understood us. There were no little girls invited, because little girls couldn't have squeezed in, unless they were willing to be hung up, like the extra dollies.
But oh! wouldn't they have liked to go? We had ice-cream, just made of vanilla, cream-candy, and water,—delicious! Then there was a whole tea-potful of chocolate-tea, which was a chocolate-cream drop scraped fine and mixed with water. Do just try it sometime. Thimble-biscuits, too, and holes with cookies round them. I never expect to be as happy again as I was when I dropped the curtain at half-past four precisely, and lighted the chandelier, which I forgot to say was a candle cut in two, stuck in cologne-bottles of different shapes and colors.