lovely pink, and another bit of blue silk brocade. "Mamma," whispered she, "give Bubbles a little piece, if she is black," and so the brightest bit of scarlet was picked out for Bubbles, who was made perfectly happy by it.

"Now, names," exclaimed Dimple, as the rest of the pieces were returned to the bag. "First Florence one and then I one. How many, Florence?"

"Four, I think. Ethel first, for me. No, you choose first, Dimple. I had first choice in the pieces."

"No, you're company."

Being company, Florence took her rights, and Ethel went down.

"Blanche, for me, mamma," said Dimple.

"And Celestine for me, auntie."

"Irene," said Dimple.

"Geraldine," said Florence.

"Adele," said Dimple.

"My last," said Florence. "Rubina."

"Oh, what a lovely name!" exclaimed Dimple. "If you don't draw it, I should like it, so I won't say any more till you have drawn."

The slips were shaken up in a hat, and Florence, with eyes shut, drew out Celestine.

"I am glad," she said. "I believe I like that best; it has a sort of a heavenly sound, and my doll is angelic."

"Well, mamma, I will take Rubina. You don't care, do you, Florence?"

"No, indeed. I am glad you like it."

"Now they are named, we will dress them."

"How are you going to dress yours, Dimple?"

"I think I'll have a skirt of the blue and a waist of the pink. No, the other way, will look best, because the velvet is thickest, the skirt of pink and the waist of blue."

"Well, I will have to make my doll's frock of all the same, with velvet trimming. Will that look well?"

"Lovely! What are you going to do with your piece, Bubbles?"

"Make a overskirt for Floridy Alabamy," said Bubbles, importantly.

"Who?" said Dimple, with her scissors ready to cut into the pink.

"Floridy Alabamy," said Bubbles, gravely.

"What a name!" shrieked Dimple, throwing back her head in a fit of laughter. "Florence, did you hear? Floridy Alabamy."

And the girls laughed till the tears ran down their cheeks.

"Bubbles, you are too ridiculous," said Dimple, while Bubbles pinned her bit of scarlet on her doll.

Just then Sylvy called her, and she ran off, holding her doll admiringly at arm's length.

"She will dress it just like a darkey. You see," said Dimple, "she has a purple dress on it now; think of that, with a scarlet overskirt; and I know she will make it a blue waist out of one of my old sash ribbons I gave her."

And sure enough, Floridy Alabamy did wear the three colors in triumph.

"Do you like big or little dolls best?" asked Florence.

"I don't know," said Dimple. "I think rather big or real little. Middle sizes are so hard to dress. They have to have such little fidgety sleeves and waists. I have two little dolls upstairs, and we can dress them up next. I believe one of them has an arm off, but it can be mended. How many dolls have you?"

"Four, now," answered Florence. "I had five, but Gertrude broke one. Gertrude is such a mischief, I have to keep all my things locked up. I hope to goodness they won't let her get at them while I'm away."

"Oh, you must make a traveling dress for your Celestine. I have a piece of grey linen that will just do."

By the time the dinner bell rang, both the dolls were dressed gorgeously.

"Aren't they lovely, papa?" said Dimple, as she hobbled out to meet him.

"Yes; they look like two butterflies," he said, lifting her up, doll and all.

"Are you having a good time, Florence? I hope Dimple hasn't pinched or scratched you yet."

"Why, papa," said Dimple, looking very much hurt. "Florence will think I am a regular little cat," but seeing a twinkle in his eyes, she knew he was only in fun, and was consoled by the kiss he gave her as he put her in her chair at the table.

There was a long afternoon before them, and, although Dimple could not walk very well with her bandaged foot, she managed to get down to her favorite place, under a big tree, where the grass was long and thick.

"Now we can play beautifully with our dolls, Florence," she said, "and have no one to disturb us, for Bubbles doesn't count. She has to be in the kitchen for a while anyhow."

They had not been out very long before Bubbles came running to them. "There is a lady and a boy in the house, Miss Dimple," she said, "and your mamma's a bringin' the boy out hyah."

"A boy!" said both the girls in horror.

"Think of it, Florence, a horrid boy! What will we do with him? I can't run, and boys despise dolls. As for talking, I never could talk to boys. They shut me up like a clam. I always feel as if they wanted to get away, and I believe they would if they could," said Dimple in a disgusted tone.

But, by this time, Mrs. Dallas had come up to them.

"This is Rock Hardy, girls," said she. "As Dimple is a little lame, I brought him out here, rather than take her in the house," and so saying, she left them. There was a deep silence after they had shaken hands; all looking rather bashful for a few minutes.

Finally Rock took courage to say, "What pretty dolls."

This was encouraging; Florence and Dimple exchanged pleased glances.

"Do you think they are pretty?" asked Dimple. "I thought boys hated dolls."

"I don't," said Rock. "I played with them myself for a long time, and I have one now, but I don't play with it because I like to read better."

"He is a nice boy," thought the girls.

"How funny," said Florence. "How came you to play with dolls?"

"Why, you see, I haven't any brothers and sisters. When I was a little fellow I used to get so lonely, that my mother dressed a boy doll for me, and I talked to it and pretended it was another boy."

"I haven't any brothers, or sisters either," said Dimple, "but Florence has. I have Bubbles, though. Everybody can't have a Bubbles; she is next best to a sister, or a cousin."

"Who is Bubbles?" asked Rock.

"She is the little colored girl you saw when you came out of the house; she has lived here ever since I was a baby; she is a year older than I am; her mother ran off and left her, and she is real nice to play with."

Dimple was fast getting over her embarrassment.

"Don't you go to school?" asked Rock.

"No, mamma has always taught me at home, but I am going next year. It is vacation now."

"Yes, I know," said Rock, "that is why we came here. We are going to stay for some time. I like to play with girls. Will you let me come and play with you sometimes?"

"Yes, indeed," said Dimple, in her warm-hearted way. "My foot is nearly well, and I can soon run about. I think I should like to play with a nice boy."

"I hope I'm a nice boy," said Rock, "but I don't know. I suppose everybody is mean sometimes."

"I think you look nice," said Dimple, honestly, looking at him from head to foot.

"Why don't you say something, Florence?"

Florence thus appealed to, could say nothing.

"Florence is my cousin," said Dimple. "She lives in Baltimore and she came here yesterday."

"Why, I live in Baltimore," said Rock. "What street do you live on, Florence?"

Florence told him, and they found it was in the next street to that on which Rock lived, so they all began to feel like old friends.

"If I had my scroll saw here, I could make you each a chair for your dolls," said Rock. "Maybe my mother will let me send for it. I will ask her."

"Oh, that would be lovely," said the girls.

"And I will lend you some of my books to