acquired at Easter.

"Much good takin' anything'll do!" grumbled Jane. Then, plucking crossly
at a muslin sleeve, "Well, what do you want? Your French doll? Speak
up!"

"I don't want anything," asserted Gwendolyn, "--long as I can't have my
Puffy Bear any more." There was a wide vacant place beside the dog with
the large ears.

"The little beast got shabby," explained Thomas, "and I was compelled to
throw him away along with the old linen-hamper. Like as not some poor
little child has him now."

She considered the statement, gray eyes wistful. Then, "I liked him,"
she said huskily. "He was old and squashy, and it wouldn't hurt him to
walk up the Drive, right in the path where the horses go. The dirt is
loose there, like it was in the road at Johnnie Blake's in the country.
I could scuff it with my shoes."

"You could scuff it and I could wear myself out cleanin', I suppose,"
retorted Jane. "And like as not run the risk of gittin' some bad germs
on my hands, and dyin' of 'em. From what Rosa says, it was downright
_shameful_ the way you muddied your clothes, and tore 'em, and messed in
the water after nasty tad-poles that week you was up country. _I_ won't
allow you to treat your beautiful dresses like that, or climb about, or
let the hot sun git at you."

"I'm going to _walk_."