see if there were any pictures in it, before giving it back again.
Juliet, on the other hand, wished to know the names of all the flowers.
When Mr. Jeminy repeated their names in Latin, from the text-book on
botany, she clapped her hands, and jumped up and down, because it was
so comical.

Now, in August, Mr. Jeminy was building her a doll's house in Mrs.
Wicket's tumbledown barn. It was the sort of work he liked to engage
in; no one expected him to be accurate, it was only necessary to use
his imagination. But Juliet, swinging her legs on top of the feed bin,
regarded him with round and serious eyes. For in Juliet's opinion, Mr.
Jeminy was involved in a difficult task; and she was afraid he might
not be able to go through with it.

"How many rooms," she said, "is my doll's house going to have?"

"I had counted," said Mr. Jeminy, "on two." And he went over the
plans, using his hammer as a pointer. "Here is the bedroom," he said,
"and there is the kitchen. There's where the stove is going to be."

Juliet followed him without interest. It was apparent that she was
disappointed.

"Where's the parlor?" she demanded.

"Must there be a parlor?" asked Mr. Jeminy, in surprise.

"What do you think?" said Juliet. "I have to have a place for Anna to
keep company in."