"All right," said the Dream. "Go ahead."

So Marjorie approached the boy, who stopped hammering and looked up at
her pleasantly. "I thought that I would better tell you--" began
Marjorie, somewhat embarrassed, "that--that--" she found it more
difficult than she had expected, "--well, you see, you are making a
mistake."

"What do you mean?" asked the boy glancing along the trim row of
palings.

"Why, you are putting the pickets too close together," said Marjorie.
"They don't look well that way, and they are too near the ground,
besides. I was just speaking to my friend about it, and I thought that I
ought to tell you, as well."

"Thank you," said the boy, gravely; and then:--"Do you know what I am
building this fence for?"

"No-o," said Marjorie. "I supposed it was just--just a fence."

"Well," said the boy, "a fence usually has some particular purpose; and,
as a general thing, the person building it knows that purpose better
than any one else, and just what sort of a fence is best in that
especial case."

Marjorie said nothing, and the boy went on.

"I am fencing in a place for some white rabbits. Some of them are very
small, and so I had to put the pickets near together and close to the