"DEAR MISS MCDOLLY:--I'se an 'ittle dirl named for you, I is,
Daisy Thornton, an' my papa is Mr. Guy, an' mam-ma is Julia, and 'ittle
brother is Guy, too--only he's a baby, and vomits up his dinner and ties
awfully sometimes; an' I knows anoder 'ittle girl named for somebody who
dives her 'sings,' a whole lot, an' why doesn't youse dive me some, when
I'se your sake-name, an' loves you ever so much, and why'se you never
turn here to see me. I wish you would. I ask papa is you pretty, an' he
tell me yes, bootiful, an' every night I p'ays for you and say God bress
papa an' mam-ma, an' auntie, and Miss McDolly, and 'ittle brodder, an'
make Daisy a dood dirl, and have Miss McDolly send her sumptin' for
Tissmas, for Christ's sake. An' I wants a turly headed doll that ties
and suts her eyes when she does to seep, and wears a shash and a
pairesol, and anodder bigger dolly to be her mam-ma and pank her when
she's naughty, an' I wants an 'ittle fat-iron, an' a cookstove, an'
wash-board. I'se dot a tub. An' I wants some dishes an' a stenshun
table, an' 'ittle bedstead, an' yuffled seets, an' pillars, an' blue
silk kilt, an' ever so many sings which papa cannot buy, 'cause he
hasn't dot the money. Vill you send them, Miss McDolly, pese, an' your
likeness, too. I wants to see how you looks. My mam-ma is pretty, with
black hair an' eyes, but she's awful old--I dess. How old is you? Papa's
hair is some dray, an' his viskers, too. My eyes is bue.

"Yours respectfully,
DAISY THORNTON."

* * * * *

Miss McDonald had been shopping since ten in the morning, and her
carriage had stood before the dry-goods stores, and toy-shops, and candy
stores, while bundle after bundle had been deposited on the cushions,