"Grandmother, do you know where I can find a little bit of wire?" asked Marjorie, running from the shed, where an amateur circus was in preparation.
Grandmother went to a little closet in the room and disappeared a moment, coming out presently with the wire.
"O, yes! and Fred wanted me to ask if you had a large safety-pin." Marjorie looked a little wistful, as if she did not quite like to bother grandmother.
There was another trip made to the closet, and the safety-pin was in
Marjorie's hand.
"You are a pretty nice grandma," she said, over her shoulder, as she ran out.
Not very long after, Marjorie came into the kitchen again. This time she stood beside the sink, where grandmother was washing dishes, and twisted her little toes in her sandals, but seemed afraid to speak.
"Fred wants to know"—began grandmother, laughing.
"Yes'm," said Marjorie, blushing.
"If I can't find him a piece of strong string?" finished grandmother.
"O, no—it's a little brass tack!" declared Marjorie, soberly.