[Illustration]

Then she took something else off a clothes-horse--

"That isn't my pinny?" said Lucie.

"Oh no, if you please'm; that's a damask table-cloth belonging to Jenny
Wren; look how it's stained with currant wine! It's very bad to wash!"
said Mrs. Tiggy-winkle.

[Illustration]

Mrs. Tiggy-winkle's nose went sniffle, sniffle, snuffle, and her eyes went
twinkle, twinkle; and she fetched another hot iron from the fire.

[Illustration]

"There's one of my pocket-handkins!" cried Lucie--"and there's my pinny!"

Mrs. Tiggy-winkle ironed it, and goffered it, and shook out the frills.

"Oh that _is_ lovely!" said Lucie.

[Illustration]

"And what are those long yellow things with fingers like gloves?"

"Oh, that's a pair of stockings belonging to Sally Henny-penny--look how
she's worn the heels out with scratching in the yard! She'll very soon go