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Updated: June 17, 2025
"I didn't say I was going with her all the time, but I don't see why I can't speak to her if I want to." "Oh, I suppose you can speak, but I shouldn't do much more than that." Edna made no reply. She had her own ideas of what she meant to do. "Where is your paper-doll?" asked Dorothy, "I want to show it to Agnes." "I haven't it with me," returned Edna a little confusedly.
Between them they fished all the dolls out. One was of celluloid and another of rubber—they had floated into the middle of the pond. Two china babies had sunk to the very bottom—their white faces smiled placidly up through the water at their rescuers. A little rag-doll lay close to the shore, water-logged. A pretty paper-doll had melted to a pulp.
Miss Lady had discovered the library in her paper-doll days, and had ruthlessly clipped small bonneted ladies with flounced skirts from magazines that dated back to the first year of publication. Later she had discovered that some of the ladies had jokes on their backs, or rather pieces of jokes, the rest of which she hunted up in the old magazines.
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