Unfortunately, as potatoes were costly, the only tuber they had in the
house was a weazened old thing that parted with its wrinkled skin
reluctantly and was not very white when partially peeled. However, Jim
pared off enough of its surface on which to make a countenance, and
left the darker hide above to form the dolly's hair. He bored two
eyes, a nose, and a mouth in the toughened substance, and blackened
them vividly with soot from the chimney. After this he bored a larger
hole, beneath the chin, and pushed the head thus created upon the metal
spout of the flask, where it certainly stuck with firmness.

With a bit of cord the skin of the rabbit was now secured about the
neck and body of the lady's form, and her beauty was complete. That
certain particles of powder rattled lightly about in her graceful
interior only served to render her manners more animated and her person
more like good, lively company, for Jim so decided himself.

"There you are. That's the prettiest dolly you ever saw anywhere,"
said he, as he handed it over to the willing little chap. "And she all
belongs to you."

The mite of a boy took her hungrily to his arms, and Jim was peculiarly
affected.

"Do you want to give her a name?" he said.

Slowly the quaint little pilgrim shook his head.

"Have you got a name?" the miner inquired, as he had a dozen times
before.