Dollie's poor mother is quite full of care,
As she who lived in a shoe,
For this child is tousled, this one undressed--
Mother has all she can do.
More dollies there are, than possible clothes,
Some of them must go to bed.
And some to be healed by mother with glue,
Lacking an arm or a head.
Then others, wearing the invalid's clothes,
Care not a fling or a jot
Nor know that to-morrow their own fate may be
The bed, or the mucilage pot.


The first Sunday that the children were at the seashore was warm and
beautiful.

Mrs. Rayburn and Mrs. Stevens went to church in the picturesque stone
chapel built by a sea captain, as a memorial to his daughter who was
drowned on the coast some years before this.

"We'll be really better girls to stay at home some of the church time,"
said Ethelwyn at breakfast, "we'll go this evening with Miss Dorothy."

"My dolls are needing a bath and their best clothes for Sunday-school,"
said Beth to Ethelwyn, who had decided to go down on the beach; "and I
can do it all comfy and nice while you are gone."

So Ethelwyn and 'Vada went for a run on the beach, and mother Elizabeth,
with a look of happy care on her face, and her beloved six dolls in her