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About this time Miss Alcott visited Rome with her artist sister May, the "Amy" of Little Women, and on her return, wrote Shawl-straps, a bright sketch of their journey, followed by an Old-Fashioned Girl; that charming book Under the Lilacs, where your heart goes out to Ben and his dog Sancho; six volumes of Aunt Jo's Scrap-bag; Jack and Jill; and others.
I'll help you," said Winifred, as she opened a closet door and drew out a brown linen bag. "This is the scrap-bag. Look, Ruthie;" and she drew out a long strip of plaided silk. "That would make a lovely sash for Cecilia," said Ruth, "but of course it would be nice for Josephine," she added quickly, half-afraid that she had seemed grasping of Winifred's possessions.
"Not a bad job for an eleven-year-old, Pat." "I could do it better, only I had to make a strip from a piece I found in Aunt Julia's scrap-bag," Patricia explained. "Patricia!" Miss Kirby exclaimed from the doorway, "your dress is only half buttoned, and your hair is Patricia Kirby, have you gone and hunted up another dog!" "It's the same one, Aunt Julia. He has improved a lot, hasn't he?
So I brought the scrap bag from the store room and dumped the contents on my bed, and soon found just what I wanted two beautiful bits of silk. I hastily stitched them together, and was all ready to go. I could return the silk to the bag the next morning and my mistress would never know they had been gone. I thought regretfully what a shame it was to throw such beautiful things into a scrap-bag.
I do not need to explain, even to a man. Briefly, I looked sweller than ever. The only thing needed to complete my toilet were some bright ribbons to fix in my hair and around my throat. I recollected having seen some very pretty ribbons in my mistress's scrap-bag which would do admirably.
Arkwright supported our refusals was comical, and she was only pacified at last by having the "scrap-bag" of odds and ends of net, muslin, lace, and embroidery handed over to her, from which she made us set after set of dainty collars and sleeves in various "modes," sitting well under the shade of the trees, on a camp-stool, with a camphor-bag to keep away insects, and in bodily fear of the dogs.
I'd not ask any favors of America's enemies," he concluded, picking up his spade and turning back to his work. "It wouldn't be a favor to ask for what belonged to me," Ruth answered sharply. But Gilbert's words made her more hopeful; Winifred was sure that Gilbert was right, and that Hero would come safely home. "Come up to my room, Ruthie; Mother has given me her scrap-bag.
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